SLEEPING CLUB- ALVAREZ AND SUNSET

At the corner of Alvarez and Sunset sat a shuttered and forgotten furniture store. At least that’s how it appeared to Steven Welcome who looked on from the air-conditioned comfort of his BMW. A poster with the name of a commercial real estate agent and a phone number were plastered prominently on the front door of the place. Steven produced a pad of paper and wrote down the name and number.

Floor to ceiling glass windows ran the length of the storefront facing Alvarez Street. They wrapped around the corner and continued along Sunset before coming to an asphalt parking lot in the rear of the store. Broken glass sparkled uniformly across the surface of the parking lot. Plastic bags, fast-food packaging, and such had been deposited by the wind and collected into its corners. A homeless man slept in the skinny shade next to the building. A heaped shopping cart stood nearby.

The furniture store was surrounded on all sides by night clubs, bars and restaurants. As Steven took in the scene, the corner looked competely deserted. Alvarez and Sunset was the sort of place that came alive after the sun went down. Memories of the corner were always bathed in a purple glow as if cast from a neon light. On most nights. music and revelers would spill out into the streets and cars filled every available parking space. Cruisers rolled slowly past as groups of people, smiling and dressed to impress, laughed and made their way from one establishment to the next. Others walked alone with shoulders hunched. Throngs of people, slightly warm around the edges and following after various appetites, were drawn to the scene by night, but by day the place was all but deserted. The old furniture store looked entirely out of place among its sexy neighbors.

“This must have been a different sort of neighborhood at one time,” thought Steven to himself. “I wonder what Aunty wants with this place.”