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Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Tribal Juice is good for...

...the soul?

I haven't yet figured out the ending to that sentence.

While in LA, my sister and I found ourselves needing to take a trip downtown, so instead of taking the freeway, we decided to take a scenic route. It was really funny to see how different LA is from where we grew up. The architecture is different, the flora and fauna are different, the businesses are different, the way of life is different...

I apologize for these images... most of them were taken at traffic lights and while driving.
Oh, and the Jollibee restaurant really creeped me out (it's just one of those irrational things, like Monk being afraid of milk), so I had to take a picture.

We ended up taking a wrong turn somewhere along the way (don't worry though, we had my GPS, Nancy, with us, so we didn't get lost), and drove past this:

Of course, my sister and I immediately started laughing hysterically, because this was by far one of the weirdest things we had encountered thus far on our trip. Had we magically entered a portal that transported us to Jamaica or some other tropical island? We decided that we had to go there for some "Tribal Juice" on our way home. And, we did.

The place was literally a hole in the wall with no air conditioning, with juice and produce stacked up all over the place. They had an enormous menu of fruit and vegetable juices, blended coffee beverages, and fruit smoothies, as well as sandwiches, wraps, and I'm sure a million other things that I didn't even see. It was bizarre. My sister decided to get a juice drink with carrots, celery, and strawberry (I think), and I ordered a banana-pineapple-orange smoothie. I wish that you could have seen us, because we were so giddy to get our tribal juices, and the expectations and adrenaline were running high.

Exhibit A:
Loren eagerly awaits her tribal juice... so much hope and excitement in that naive face. :o)

Well, we got our juices, and mine ended up being strawberry banana, and Loren's was just plain Grossout. I felt a little bad for her, because it was entirely undrinkable. She gave it a good effort while we were standing in front of the cashier to say, "This is delicious!" Then, she gave me her juice and ran across the street to take a picture of the place.

Oh, hello. I'm enjoying a wonderful Tribal Juice Smoothie. Would you care for a sandwich or wrap?

In the end, we didn't end up getting e. coli, like I had suspected when I first walked in, but we didn't really get great juice either (which I also expected when I first walked in). The moral of the story:

Sometimes you should judge a book by its cover.

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