5:51 a.m. I am sitting on the couch wondering why I'm awake when I didn't get in from my surveillance until midnight. I take a sip of my Diet Dew and wrap a blanket around me.
Yesterday was a very interesting experience for this midwestern girl. People in Beverly Hills are all beautiful, drive expensive cars and dress in rediculously uncomfortable looking clothes. I see a lady come out of her apartment across from were I set up. She is wearing $300 sunglasses and a sparkly sequined top. She's got gold high heels on and tight jeans. I watch her walk her dog to the corner where it relieves itself. She bends over with a little baggy and scoops up the mess. Then she walks back into her apartment. That was bizarre. She wore heels to take her dog poopy.
After more observation, I come to realize that I am the oddity here. I look down at my tank and workout pants. Maybe tomorrow I'll wear my fabulous powder blue pants. And my pink heels. And my white scoop-neck blouse. Nah. Too uncomfortable and too pastel. I'd feel like an Easter Egg.
Mad shows up and we have a good time making fun of people. We were going to pose as Jahovah's Witnesses as a pretext, but Mad isn't sure she can keep a straight face. I load up my camera in my new spy purse and walk to Subject's screen door. She's inside reading the paper and seems startled when I knock. I ask her if this is Sharon Johnson's residence and she says it isn't. Well, at least I know she's there.
I walk back to the surveillance vehicle and get in. A few minutes later, I point out the window. "Hey, Mad! Look! It's Matthew McConaughey driving by in a Ford Escort!" Mad is skeptical of my sighting, however. Throughout the day I am also certain I see Bob Barker driving a Lincoln and Rita Moreno spitting on the sidewalk at an intersection.
I am having such a good time that I almost miss Subject exiting her apartment. (Ahem...thanks Mad.) I scramble into the back seat... which is not as easy in a 2-door sports car as it is in my truck. I get some video of Subject weaving her way down the sidewalk in her pajamas before turning around and heading back. She seems drunk or stoned or both. She bends over and gives the camera a nice view of the junk in her trunk. Mad quietly provides as little background musak, "Boom-chika-boom. Bow-chika-bow-wow." I giggle.