Universal Studios Hollywood 1 week after the 2008 fire

Check out these exotic cars and girls images today:

Universal Studios Hollywood 1 week after the 2008 fire


Image by aeronerd
This is one week after the fire at Universal Studios Hollywood. All of New York St, Brownstone St, New York Alleys, 6th St., Georgetown Ave., Factory St., south end of 8th St., west and south end of Courthouse Sqare, King Kong attraction and the video vault were destroyed.

Famous scenes filmed at those locations:

Courthouse Square – Famous for Hill Valley from the Back to the Future movies. Currently dressed for the TV show Ghost Whisperers.

Brownstone St. – Has two sides: the east side looks like a residential street, the west side looks like a business street of New York. Bruce Almighty’s dog peeing scene. The Sting. Lady Sings The Blues and Cast Away.

New York St. – National Treasures: Book of Secrets (opening street scenes when Lincoln got shot); Bruce Almighty (where he drives that exotic car and where he made the girls dress blow up); Dirty Harry (bank where he says "go ahead, make my day"; Spiderman 2 (theater where MJ performs); Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me (the scene with Elvis Costello and Burt Bacharach); Transformers ( the end of the movie where they are all fighting) and much more. NY Street is probably one of the busiest on the lot.

Image by wakingphotolife:
Victor and William had went to the clubs that night. They asked me to go with but I declined. Many times. I am not much of a club person. They make me feel uncomfortable.

After they left, I was on my own again. I watched some television and flipped through channels. Anderson Cooper 360 was on. I watched until I feel asleep. It was for only half an hour though. And then I woke up.

I put on a shirt, took my camera and bag and walked to the Mandalay Bay. I didn’t have any exact plans for myself. I am not much of a gambling person either even though I put a few forgotten quarters into the fringe slot machines that were along the way. I just wanted to wander around.

The Tropicana Express is a shuttle that takes people straight to the Las Vegas strip from the Mandalay Bay, Luxor and Excalibur. I waited for it arrive. Along the left side of the wall and waiting with me where three girls. They talked among themselves and shortly after, another man arrived.

So where are you from, said one of the girls.
Calgary, he said.
That’s awesome, I’ve never met anyone from Calgary before.
I’m not surprised. We don’t get out much. Where are you from?
We’re from South Carolina.
The girl who was brought a camera out of her bag.
I hope I don’t sound like a stalker or anything, but I have this dare from a friend back home.
What is it, said the man from Calgary, I hope it’s not something that’ll get me in trouble.
No. I just have to take at least once photo of a complete stranger.

Aren’t you going to be in the photo too?
No, it’s just you.
Right. The man took off his baseball cap, he had hat hair, and looked into the camera. It flashed just as the incoming tram arrived and the girls laughed and giggled at the display on the back of the camera. In a way, I felt bad for him. Then we all boarded the tram.

I was on the train with tram with three Italian women. They were all middle-aged. I stood against the window and looked at the street below outside as they talked loudly and laughed.

The roller-coaster swooped by overhead in front of New York, New York. I made my way through the tourist crowd and walked into the casino. There was the familiar din of slot machines down the hall. To my left was an oxygen bar, to my right, was a gift shop that sold magic kits. And in front of me was the entrance to the Coyote Ugly bar. I walked back out and crossed the bridge to the MGM Grand.

Even though it was one in the morning, it was sill close to ninety degrees and the crowd along the sidewalk appeared to be even larger than just a few hours ago. I sweated into the collar of my shirt and the along the shoulder where the strap of my camera bag pressed against.

Past the Wal-greens and in the parking lot of McDonald’s, a roll of Lamborghinis and Aston Martins were parked. For a few hundred dollars, people could drive up and down the strip in their car of choice. Or if they couldn’t afford it, a photographer was on stand-by to take a picture of them seating inside it, for twenty dollars.

Less than twenty yards away were more gift shops, a liquor store and a showgirl with peacock tail feathers and a long hot pink boa around her shoulders and neck. She paraded up and down the street with the imitation Elvis for anyone else wanted pictures but were not enticed by the exotic cars.

My camera was slung around my shoulder and I took pictures of people in the crowd as I wandered. I was very obvious this time. Back home, I would have gotten middle fingers and stares, but not here. Being Asian helps. When I took a photo of the prostitute solicitor, he smiled and turned around, showing me the goods that he would be get for me, "Girl to your door, you choose!" it said on the lighted poster he wore on his back.

There were too many people on the street. It was suffocating even outdoors. I came to a point the police had closed off the road for an unknown reason. Everyone on the sidewalk shifted towards the street. I walked ahead and stood in the middle divider. With all the neon lights and haze of the surrounding desert, it looked like the day of apocalypse. Or at least an impending zombie invasion.

I was beginning to feel delirious so I walked back. I only made it as far as Paris. A good mile from where I began.

On my way back, I was harassed much more frequently by the prostitute solicitors. I wasn’t sure people there call them, but it’s what I call them. They were all Mexicans. I felt bad for them and actually reached for one of their fliers. They mobbed me and some of the passer byers looked at me like I was a dirty man.

I threw it into the bushes a block later.

I stopped by one of the liquor stores on my return walk. It was the liquor store behind where they parked all the Lamborghini’s and Aston Martins. I picked up a tall can of Steel Reserve. There was a small altercation at the cashiers desk. The man bought a pint bottle of Heineken but couldn’t open it. He asked the cashier for a bottle opener but she said that she didn’t have one. Then he became visibly upset. Left the bottle on the counter and left with his friends.

All that for a Heineken. Long night? I said to the cashier.
She didn’t respond and turned around to talk to the other cashier next to her.
Right.

It’s an odd feeling, to walk and drink along the street so openly. No brown bags, no scanning eyes. I found a concrete ledge to sit down along. There were a lot of other people sitting there. There was a man next to me with a bottle of Bud Light. He was sweating into his polo and didn’t look too happy. How you doing, I said. We talked about Vegas for a bit, he was from Ontario.

A group of teenagers walked by. They were from the basketball camp that was in town. They were very tall. The tallest looked at me as I drank from the can. A Steelie, don’t drink that stuff man. It’s bad for you, he said as he walked by. I finished it and threw the empty can into the trash bin as a response. I’ll see you later, I said to the man from Ontario.

I walked all the way back to the MGM Grand, crossed the bridge in front of the Tropicana and took the tram back to the Mandalay Bay. I was feeling loose.

I called you when I was there. But you didn’t pick up.

I walked back to my hotel room. I passed by the club that my brothers were suppose to be at. Is it poppin’ ? I texted them.

I turned the television back on. It was close to two thirty already and watched the hotel channel for a bit. It was a behind the scenes for the Criss Angel show downstairs. After a minute, I turned off the television.

I took my camera out, rewound the film and put the finished roll into a zip lock bag. And then went to sleep.

Tags:2008, after, Fire, Hollywood, studios, Universal, week.