The Mysticism of Culver City

It's funny how different everything appears when night falls. It's as if our very streets are transformed as the shadows creep up; distorting size, shape and color. Last week, I went out to Culver City to find a Trader Joe's for a little shopping, but did so without looking at a map. Now I had been to this particular store once before at night, and so I thought I could reconstruct my path (of course without knowing any of the street names since I didn't drive the previous time). I ended up driving up and down the same streets for about an hour until I finally found a Trader Joe's, but not the one I was looking for. As I was driving I kept trying to locate things that looked familiar, and at first I was navigating myself with ease through the streets. But the city looked completely foreign to me after some time because it was daytime. I now realize that the familiarity with locations while driving changes between night and day. During the day you can point out and describe each building in terms of its color and shape, navigating by familiar landmarks you can see. At night, that all changes and the only markers you have come from the illumination of the neon lights ablazen across the sky. Each building gives off a different color and emits a completely different aura to the common driver. Need an example? Try driving down Sunset during the day and then at night. Tonight I drove back to Culver City to go to the Best Buy there, and of course on a street I drove up and down a dozen times last week, I saw in the distance a neon "Trader Joe's" sign mocking me.

At least now I know where it is.