I swear to you that a good number of businesses I pass on a daily basis are fronts for some money laundering or drug mob thing. I mean come on. I know the cost of a candle and the average rent of a store front and it just doesn’t add up. One reason why I like it … math doesn’t lie. I’m actually scared crapless of the stores and people in my neighborhood so I refuse to call any of them out by name. Please don’t hurt me.
BUT I don’t live in Pasadena so it’s safe to call out one there right? There is this bar next to a bar next to the Bar Method studio I go to (it’s actually insane how many bars are between where I park and the studio. It’s just constant temptation to skip working out and enjoy a delicious gin and tonic instead) that I SWEAR has something shady happening. I’m now convinced it is the hang out/business location of the Pasadena mob. I don’t know exactly who and what makes up the Pasadena mob but I’m telling you they exist and can be found at the bar next to the bar by my Bar Method studio. Why do I think that? Well first of all there is ALWAYS a table reserved in the corner of the patio and 99% of the time it has one or more people sitting at it that I would not want to meet in a dark alley. I’m sure they are perfectly wonderful and nice people (I said that just in case they are reading this and are thinking of putting me on some kind of “to kill” list) it’s just odd that no matter the day or temperature they are out there smoking, chatting, drinking, and going over paperwork. Secondly, there are rarely a lot of people in the place. Maybe I’m just walking by at odd times but I did eat there once (actually kinda nice) and it wasn’t very packed then either. Finally it has a vibe. An “you can come in and drink/eat here but we couldn’t care less one way or the other” vibe.
Mob I tell you. It’s so weird. Almost as weird as the homeless guy who hangs out on Colorado with his cat. You heard me … his cat. He has a cat! His cat sits in his lap or next to him or alone on his blanket while his dad asks for money or leftovers from those holding Cheesecake Factory bags. Give him the leftovers. He has a trained cat for goodness sakes. That’s impressive.