Raphael Almendra — the sky’s the limit.
I met the angel who turned my life around on my first solo stroll through the city. I decided to visit the Beverly Center Mall downtown, and according to Waze, it was just a twenty-minute drive from my Airbnb at the end of Sunset Boulevard — a piece of cake. I played spacey synth-wave music on my Bluetooth speaker while dressed after my shower. I slipped into skinny jeans, a sporty jacket, a cool hat, and oversized sunglasses. Perfume, teeth brushed, bag packed. I checked myself in the mirror to ensure I looked sharp. Yes. A movie star. Grabbing the keys from the bowl in the living room, I headed out to the private parking lot. Big car. Air conditioning and loud music. The traffic downtown was thick and bustling under the blazing afternoon sun, taking me over half an hour of gridlock to cross West Hollywood from the hills to Beverly Boulevard. I parked in the mall tower and headed for the escalators.
“Is this seat taken?” a striking figure with a sizable bag inquired, standing by my table at the ‘Eazy’ diner on the sixth floor. I had just purchased a Champion tracksuit and turquoise Nike running shoes at Foot Locker, and my shopping bags were resting on the bench across from me. I looked up at the man, an American, who seemed to have stepped off a runway. Tall and lean, he was clad in sleek black sportswear and exuded the scent of luxury cologne. “The place is quite crowded today,” he remarked, “and I was wondering if you’d mind if I joined you for a quick meal. My name’s Rephael,” he introduced himself, awaiting my response.
“Uh, yeah, sure, no problem,” I replied, gesturing for him to sit where my bags were. “I’m Amir.” Rephael’s face lit up with a warm smile as he moved the bags and settled in. “Hey, Amir,” he greeted me, his eyes piercing. I observed the city’s busy streets through the diner’s glass wall, which starkly contrasted with theserene atmosphere. The Hollywood Hills, not the typical urban skyline, framed the town with its lush greenery and vibrant houses basking in the sunlight.
“This is fantastic,” Raphael exclaimed, picking up the menu. “You have no idea how thrilled I am that you agreed. It’s not always easy to find such a welcoming spirit in this city.”
I smiled and sipped my water.
“You’re not from around here, are you?” he asked, pulling a sleek case from inside his bag and taking out thick-framed black glasses. I noticed bottles of hair spray, mousse, rollers, and colorful ribbons inside the bag and realized Raphael was a hairstylist. The handsome American put on his glasses with stylish flair and started reading the menu.
“That’s right. I’m from Tel Aviv.” I said, placing the napkin on my lap.
“Tel Aviv?” He stared at me in surprise, “Wow. I thought maybe Austin or Portland.”
“I do have family in Austin, but I’m not in touch with them.”
“Interesting,” he said, nodding while scanning the menu. “An Israeli with family in Austin, Texas. How unconventional. What brings you to L.A.?” He set the menu aside and looked at me through the thick lenses. His face was beautiful and delicate, but his gaze was surprisingly intense. His lips were full; his complexion toned, a mixed look of European and Latin. His hair was messy but perfectly cut.
“I’m on vacation with my boyfriend, Rani, but he won’t be here for a few more days.”
Raphael’s eyes widened. He looked at me, completely captivated. I could see thoughts racing through his beautiful mind. I signaled the waiter to come over.
“Yes, what would you like?” the waiter asked, readying his pad.
Raphael put his glasses back in the case. “I’ll have a Caesar salad without anchovies, house bread, and a pint of Stella Artois.” The waiter typed it in, nodded, and looked at me. I ordered curry noodles.
“And something to drink?”
“Yes. I’ll have a pint of Stella, too.”
The waiter nodded, said the order was on its way and returned to the kitchen.
Raphael sat up straight and folded his hands. “So…” he looked at me seriously, “you’re here alone?”
“Yes. Completely alone. Alone in Los Angeles.” I smiled and folded my hands, too.
“Well, we need to fix that. Did you bring a swimsuit?”
“Sure. We were planning to go to Venice Beach at some point.”
“Great. Instead, come to my apartment on Hollywood Boulevard; we’ll chill in the hot tub on the roof and splash around in the pool together,” he was dead serious.
“Are you sure? You barely know me.”
“It’s all good,” he smiled like a stranger trying to impress someone even more of a stranger. “I got you the moment you sat down at the table. I’m not surprised you’re alone in the city, and we met at the Beverly Center. We’ll have fun together. You’ll see.”
I didn’t know from what skies this sweet guy had fallen from — an absoluteangel.
The waiter placed the curry dish and Raphael’s Stella on the table. We looked at each other sweetly, with growing passion.
The mysterious hairstylist took a long sip of his beer, wiped his lips, and smiled at me. “You’re exactly my type. Even though we’re strangers right now, you seem like the best friend I could ask for to open my heart to and give all the good I have to offer.”
I stared at him, surprised. “What do you mean?
“I have a lot of pain in me,” he answered with utmost humility and grace, “and when I saw you here, I felt that only with you could I share the suffering. Someone outside my life, but with whom I could share everything and talk.” He took another sip of his beer.
“Wow, Raphael,” I said, shifting uncomfortably. “What you’re saying flatters me, and I’m glad to hear it. You seem like a wonderful and unique guy, too, but I don’t understand — what happened? Is everything okay?”
Raphael looked deep into my eyes. “My partner and I just broke up.”
“Oh no! Raphael, I’m so so sorry to hear that!” I replied with genuine sympathy and held his hand.
“It’s tough, and I’m still picking up the pieces.” He leaned back and looked out at the pale midday sky. “Even though I live in an apartment with a roommate, I’m in terrible distress and feel as lonely as an alley cat. Everything I do — at work, going out, even just walking down the street — I can’t feel anything but severe loneliness and terrible heartache.”
The waiter approached the table and elegantly placed the Caesar salad, the breadbasket, and my pint of Stella.
“The world has come to an end. Every day is survival for me, death, overcoming a huge existential fear. I miss the relationship with Alejandro so much… I moved from San Francisco to L.A. and developed from being a hairstylist to managing a chain of beauty stores with him. Everything was going so well, with magical emotion and happiness; our life together was like a delicate fabric. I knew there might be problems because he snorts crystal meth, and I’m not a user, but now, really, everything exploded in my face and was torn to pieces. He left me after a stupid fight, disappeared one day, and never came back; he just threw me to the dogs! I’m bleeding pride! He flipped on me like a homeless junkie from San Diego and turned my world upside down! Other than anxiety and distress, I can’t feel anything, anything! and I can’t seem to get myself together to do anything productive. This has been going on since his disappearance for several months now.” He sniffled and looked at me with utmost sincerity. I stared at him in total shock. Although it was clear that I was entering an unwritten adventure the moment I agreed to let him sit across from me, a “This Life” episode in an American version, with a twist of a Californian soap opera, was much more than I expected. I continued with his line of thought. “Yes,” I said, in genuine solidarity, “my experience in L.A. hasn’t been so simple either.”
“Really?” Raphael asked eagerly and swallowed a forkful of Caesar salad.
“Yes,” I replied gravely. I picked up noodles with chopsticks and grabbed a tofu chunk with a lot of curry. I shoved everything in my mouth and chewed for about a minute. “I dreamed of vacationing in Greece this summer. Eternal Greece. I got dragged here because of my boyfriend’s business. I don’t get to do anything besides feeling lonely and miserable in the dark. I can’t organize anything sensible. Since I arrived, I’ve been in endless jet lag in front of the damn smart TV, watching hip-hop videos for hours, drinking unknown beers, and chain-smoking until the morning.”
“Wow,” Raphael said while nervously stirring the salad. “We are both lonely in the city of lights like two dogs in the dark! Each in his own life, and now we have met! The loneliness has turned into a great light!” He looked at me with wide eyes, expecting a response.
“Totally!” I exclaimed, again placing my hand on his. We intertwined our fingers. “We couldn’t have asked for anything more wonderful than finding each other this afternoon,” I looked into his eyes and smiled. With my other hand, I continued to load noodles and tofu on the chopsticks. I ate with a natural appetite.
“It’s me who found you; don’t forget,” Raphael said, smiling at me with reckless sweetness. “Now, you must come with me to Hollywood Boulevard to splash together in the pool and the hot tub.”
“Absolutely!” I said, swallowing my food. “We’ll do more than that,” I sipped my beer, thrilled by the twist in my L.A story.
To be continued.
