Over the summer, I went to a church off and on in Hollywood that I really, really liked. The congregation was young and fun, the music and the sermons always felt relevant to me, and although it was a big church and I didn't know many people, I felt like I had found a niche. Now, church is something I grew up with, and that my family takes pretty seriously, but I've just recently as an adult felt compelled to go of my own free will. (Yes, I was the child who tried to fake appendicitis to get out of going to church. My parent's solution to this was that they took me to church anyway so they could pray that Jesus would heal me. I didn't get away with much).
So for me to have found a church that I identified with and genuinely enjoyed attending was a pretty big deal. Unfortunately, after the move, driving from Venice to Hollywood for a Sunday morning service was a little inconvenient (and by a little, I mean a lot).
So, like any LA dweller I attempted to adapt to my surroundings by finding a church closer to me. I tried one or two, but they just weren't quite what I was looking for, so this weekend, I called up my old roommate, Liz, and we decided to make the drive to the church in Hollywood.
There wasn't a lot of traffic but the drive still took us about 40 minutes and we were about 5 minutes late. The Sunday service meets in a large highschool auditorium, and because this is LA, the highschool has a parking garage (go figure). So we were surprised when we reached the intersection to turn into the parking garage, and there was a line of cars practically around the block. when we finally got to the entrance of the garage we saw a sandwich board sign that said "LOT FULL". No big deal, we thought, we decided to circle the block and park on the street.
We went around the block. Twice. Not a single parking space at noon on a Sunday. Liz mentioned that she heard this church had gotten more popular because UCLA was back in session and a lot of students attend. Furthermore, Details Magazine just wrote a big article about this particular church and their hip approach to the Christian faith. Well, 10 minutes later, we were still outside of this hip center of faith, looking for a parking spot, and we decided to drive by the parking garage again. No luck, the "Lot Full" sign was still in place.
Just as we were about to pass the entrance, we saw two cars coming out. "Hey Liz, don't you think if there are two cars coming out, then that must mean that there are two empty spaces in the garage now even though it says the lot is full?" I reasoned.
Liz agreed with my assessment, and after 2 minutes more of hasty consultation, we decided we would just scooch the sign over a few feet, and drive in and take a peek. This proved to be a TERRIBLE idea:
We got about 20 feet inside the parking structure before a woman in her early twenties came over, waving her arms for us to turn around. We rolled down our window, and she quickly explained that the lot was full, and that we needed to turn around.
"Okay, no problem," Liz said. "But where should we park? We've circled a few times and there are no spots on the street." The woman looked at us blankly, and then said "Well then I guess you should get here earlier."
True story. But not so helpful.
As this conversation was happening, another parking attendant was hurriedly approaching our car, and said "Did you take the sign?!" Liz and I exchanged glances, and then saw that two more cars had followed us into the garage. I shifted around uncomfortably and then called out the window and said, "Um, no the sign is still there." It wasn't exactly a lie, I hadn't stolen the sign. I mean, we were on our way to church, after all.
We proceeded to drive down the aisle so that we could turn around at the end, and in the process, were waved away by several more annoyed looking parking attendants. Just as we were making our way back toward the exit, a very upset looking hipster-parking attendant strode very quickly up to our car and put one hand out in the universal sign for "Halt!". Now, before I continue, I want all of you to picture this man. He looked like this:
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| photo credit: American Apparel |
Except he was wearing a skinny tie and corduroys. And he was not smiling. He was an Irate Hipster. Usually hipsters span a range of emotions from pleased to smug or superior to bored, so we were very taken aback by the level of angry that this man was. The following conversation ensued:
Irate Hipster: YOU moved the sign.
Liz: Yes, and we are very, very sorry. We thought that since a car was coming out-
Irate H.: Well, just so you know that is extremely frustrating and and upsetting to us! We are completely full, and we now have other people trying to get in here! And for your information, I am trying to be graceful with you about this but, like that is just, not cool. In fact, that is so, like, disrespectful and just so inconsiderate!
Liz: Yes, we are so sorry. We are leaving right-
Irate H.: Look, we're cool, okay. But that was NOT okay, and, like seriously, that was just totally uncalled for and really disrespectful. Next time, you just need to get here earlier, like everyone else and find a parking space. Moving that sign, just makes this, like really difficult for us, and is very frustrating to us. I'm trying to be graceful here, but that was just NOT COOL and you two-
Liz, Me: We're sorry.
The Irate Hipster, who by this time was turning very red in the face, cast his eyes towards heaven, as if to call on help from above, and then let us be on our way.
Liz and I exited the parking garage in shock and silence. We drove about two more blocks looking for a parking space, before we looked at each other and decided that the Spirit was leading us to go home have sandwiches and watch the Kardashians instead of making a further effort to attend a church where we'd be packed in like sardines to hear a sermon with 1,800 hipsters who would be annoyed at us for coming in late.
So that's what we did. We're still in the market for a good church, but we've decided that maybe that church isn't quite our scene. In their defense, we did move the sign (never again, I swear) and I'm sure the whole church is not represented by one very angry man in too tight pants, but I'm also pretty sure I'd rather attend a church with a very friendly bunch of nice blue-haired old ladies than nearly get strangled for trying to find a parking spot in Hollywood just so I can worship in the same place as Joe Jonas.
P.S. If you know of any good, youthful churches in the Santa Monica area, get at me. Seriously.
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