Anyone living in Tuscany must be a celebrity

The Laker victory parade kind of ruined my life ... or Wednesday.
Streets were blocked. People were everywhere. And I swear, it was like the streets of LA threw up purple and gold.

Anyway, my priorities were clear - get to my apartment, show some potential roommates around, drop off my cousins, bam! Only it took me approximately 45 minutes to get from the San Pedro exit to my apartment.

X <-- that's San Pedro


T <-- that's my apartment

OK, they're not that far.



After making a giant circle around Jefferson through Main then back on Broadway, I - THANK GOD - made it to Flower.
But there they were... the orange cones.
They had been blocking my every move for the last half hour and gosh darn it I needed them to move (move) get out the way. So instead of turning left onto Exposition like everyone else who was following the cones and the police men's hands, I kind of went forward. Relax, I didn't hit anyone.

I pulled up the cops were directly me to the left but Maximus and I just waited there until I got some attention. The cop came up to my window and I said while pointing straight to my destination, "Excuse me, I live over there."
"You live in Tuscany?"
"Yes."
"Ok, go forward. Let her through!"

Ye-ah! Jai ho! Bam!

I go THROUGH those darn cones, through the police men and then again cops at the corner of 37th and Flower.

"I live there."
"Oh ok, go ahead."

Ye-ah! Jai ho! Bam! That's right, you betta make way!

I knew Tuscany was worth something...

I fobed my little way into the parking lot and after 45 minutes of driving around what was probably 2 miles, I made it. 229 still smells the same.