After dropping my daughter off at camp the other day, I came to the intersection of Robertson and Venice Blvd. While stopped at a red light I noticed a young woman across the street.
It was hard not to notice her. She was wearing a skintight purple top. A very short black mini skirt. Black fishnet stockings and 6 inch high hooker boots. In her hand she was carrying a folder.
Having lived in Los Angeles, near Hollywood, for so many years it's easy to spot someone carrying their resume and a few 8 X 10 glossy head and body shots. (I tried to snap a picture of her but couldn't.)
But this woman was not looking for a role in a film or TV show. With her credentials in hand, she was looking for the hard-to-find Skin Gentleman's Club. You can see in the picture below, the beige building (right under the traffic light) is very non-descript and not immediately recognizable.
She kept looking at the address she had in her hand and kept searching the streets for Skin. She couldn't find it. It was quite amusing. Had the light not turned green, I would have gladly whipped out a stack of single dollar bills. Because this show was better than anything she could have done on stage.