W.E. Houston and Maureen O’Haren (Letters, Feb. 20 and March 9) both claim to have seen the ultimate expression of living in Los Angeles.
In the parking lot adjacent to the health club where I work out, I regularly witness rivalry for the parking spaces closest to the gymnasium. Although there are plenty of spaces for all, there is cut-throat competition for the spaces that shave off those extra hundred paces.
Ironically, these afraid-to-walks are my fellow exercise buffs. With heroic dedication they will work up sweat and muscle pains, yet they are reluctant to walk an additional 30 yards to get to that Nautilus machine or the Intermediate Slimnastics class.
Now this is the essence of living in L.A.