At one point moved to a gated community in Ladera Heights (gated for good reasons too I found out later), where my car was shot at while I was driving it (kinda like a reverse drive by), I had a gun put to my head at a cash machine, and while swimming in in the apt complex, a local girl allowed in about twenty young men, who threatened to throw me and my buddy (from college) in the pool after breaking our backs.
I then said I'd go to my apt and blow their knee caps off first.
Good times, good times.
I then moved to Playa Del Rey. Seemed the sensible thing to do. But I sure do miss the local fried chicken and the original Randys Donuts.
Many years later, a guy who ran a lot of disco's explained to me that because of my funny accent, and both my buddy and I were big guys, he said they might have assumed you were from NY and probably mafia. Since LA people don't usually talk about instant knee cap removal so casually. Pew pew for the win!