11 . 26 . 17
PHOTOS | NEEMA SADEGHI, AIDAN T. E. GALASSETTI
WRITING | AIDAN T. E. GALASSETTI
An of the moment decision led us to meet Tyler the Creator, alone, outside his recently opened store. 24 hours earlier we sat in a McDonald's booth at 2:00 AM, increasingly unsettled as waves of our high school peers came through the doors to address their amplifying munchies. Thanksgiving break was always special as it marked the first reconvention of friends since the summer. Classic misadventure was on our mind. As another handful of young jul wielding boys & girls pushed the door labeled 'pull' we took our leave, piling into Spencer's trusty 4x4 and hitting the local Shell to distribute our preliminary tithe of Venmo gas monies. From there we scooped up Mako, Spencer's heroic husky, a snowboard from Brent's, and headed for the border.
We drove through the dawn and reached the dunes three hours later, about 20 minutes north of the Tiajuana border. After frolicking amidst the sand in what would be the first batch of ASP hoodies the sun and spent camera batteries sent us exhausted and dusty back to the wagon. Next on the docket - Malibu dam.
We headed to the mythic Malibu aqueduct in what would be the failed B&E setting the exposition for the successful invasion a year and a half in the future. Hungry and saturated on L's we cut our losses and drove to Canter's on Fairfax for a damn sandwich. After a hefty tip we headed back to our parked car, validated ticket in hand. Before commencing the journey back to Irvine we decided to peep the newly opened GOLF store. It was Black Friday afterall so who knows what type of deals would be available. We approached to discover something much more incredulous - a tall Tyler stood on the threshold, leaning on the doorframe, talking to a handful of kids leaving the store.
Garbed in matching hoodies we walking by unsuspectingly, careful not to arouse the annoyance of our idol. As we walked down the block he stuck out a hand - "Whoa, whoa, whoa, what's going on here? What's with the hoodies". He entertained a fervent explanation of the fledgling ASP collective before shaking our hands and wishing us a safe trip home. Shaking from the experience we ambled back to the parking lot. Standing outside the car you could have probably heard the raucous chorus that erupted before we set sail for home. •