The Walk - Day Two, pt. 2
Walking Toward the Cult: The Generosity of Strangers
In the fourth installment of my walk to LA—and the eighth entry in my overarching journey from Upstate New York to a cult in Arizona in 2012—I finish up the second day. Coincidentally, today is the 13th anniversary of the second day of my journey.
In the last installment, I made it out of Watsonville and down to Moss Landing, where a kind stranger recommended a spot to eat.
Let’s pick up from there.
The Haute Enchilada was only another mile down the highway—tucked between the coastline and the foreboding smokestacks of the Moss Landing power plant. It was a colorful, ornate restaurant surrounded by an iron gate. I limped through the gate and into the restaurant’s outdoor seating area where I was greeted by a young server who looked at me with understandable curiosity. I sheepishly explained my situation. I told her about Stacy and that I was advised to ask for the owner. She apologized; the owner wasn’t in. I then asked if I might be able to charge my phone while I dined. She declined my request politely, citing bad wiring. I understood this to mean this isn’t that kind of place and chose not to push the matter further.
The server sat me at a table near the only other customers outside a young, straight, and white couple who appeared to be living comfortably based on their clothing.
Glancing at the menu, I realized I was over my head. A basic breakfast was going to run me at least 20 out of the now 90-ish dollars left in my account. To hell with it, I thought. If I ran out of money, I would eat peanut butter. If I ran out of peanut butter, I would forage for mushrooms. It was a problem to worry about later. At the present moment, I wanted a mimosa. When the server came back around, I ordered a coffee, a mimosa, and a plate of breakfast tacos.
The couple looked me over. The two empty wine glasses in front of them indicated that they each had at least one mimosa.
