Sexless and the city 2

My new life had begun. I was living on my own, 3000 miles from the only place I had ever called home. I had never lived anywhere else but Connecticut and so I was not used to the alien ways of what the natives there called "Cali". I soon learned it was not going to be easy to adapt. For example, they had freeways that interconnected with each other and going every which way.  I will admit, I was a little intimidated by the system.  I was living in what was known as "the Valley" (as in, "like, ohmigod, gag me with a spoon"). It was actually pretty centrally located. Just over the hill from Hollywood and minutes from the world famous downtown Burbank. I would find out later that for most people who had lived in Southern Ca awhile, the "hill" that divided the Valley from the city might as well been the great wall of China. There were snobs on both sides that regarded the other as "less than" and would never find themselves in the other's territory except for business.
Here is an example of how bad it was for me driving. I had a job interview in Culver city, which was about 30 mins away from where I lived... by freeway. But I didn't want to risk that concrete and metal monster called "the 405",  so I looked on a map to see how far it was by surface streets. Let's see...heres me and here is Culver city and there is a main street that goes all the way there called Sepulveda blvd. Perfect! It shouldn't take me long at all!  I started at 100 Sepulveda and needed to get to 8400 Sepulveda. Shouldn't be too hard. I started down the street whistling a happy tune, content in the knowledge that I had beaten the system and would not have to face the scary, scary freeway. I followed the numbered addresses as they went up....400...700...900. I was getting close, I could feel it! 1500...2600...5400....almost there. 6000...6800.... 200. Wait. 200? What the fuck? what happened to 6800? The street was starting over? Nooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Godammit! I'm going to be so late. 800....3200...........traffic stops. just stops. It goes from 3 lanes to one and bumper to bumper. Right near a freeway entrance. I can see the cars on the freeway flying by, as if to say, "Dorfman, you're a pussy!" Actually, I think someone really did yell that out as they drove by. Not sure how they knew my name but, whatever. An hour and a half later I get to the job interview. It ended up being a bullshit sales job for your very own car detailing business. I told the guy who interviewed me the story about the trip down. He laughed and said, "Wow, Dorfman, you're a pussy!" He still gave me the job. Total commission gig. I lasted 3 whole weeks there. Needless to say, I took the freeway back home from the interview.