Author's Note: This story is was inspired by the real Z-Boys, not the actors who portrayed them in "LODT". I tried to make this somewhat true to the time period, but there are some deliberate inaccuracies, for example, the real POP pier was demolished in 1974, two years before this story begins. Be warned, the pace is VERY slow and there's not a lot of angst.This story has appeared in part elsewhere online, but I've added some to it since then and will only update it at this location. Of course reviews are very welcome. Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Z-Boys or the characters in Lords of Dogtown. This work is purely fiction and any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental.

Chapter 1

January 1976

Jess stood in the middle of her bedroom, surrounded by half-unpacked cardboard moving boxes, and sighed in exasperation. Her best slacks were in one of the boxes, probably at the bottom of the last one she would look in, and she needed to get dressed and out the door before the day got much older. Frustrated, she crouched down beside the largest box and continued to rummage through her folded up clothes. Spying her gray and white plaid slacks, she plucked them out and decided that although they were her second best they would have to do. She slipped them on, tucked in her white blouse, pushed her long, gently waved reddish-brown hair back with a wide white headband, and slipped on her Bass deck shoes before heading out the door. At the last second she stopped to grab her lipgloss from the as-yet unsorted pile of makeup on her dresser, then went out to the living room, where her mother was arranging photographs on a bookshelf.

"Ok Mom, I'm going up to the beach to see about waitressing jobs, be back in a couple of hours!"

Her mother shot her a look that was both amused and exasperated. "Sweetie, I don't know why you're in such a hurry to find work – you're not even fully unpacked yet!"

"I know, but classes start on Monday and I'd rather have something lined up by then. And it'll be a good way to meet people around here. If I don't make some new friends as soon as possible, I'm gonna go crazy!"

Her mother smiled understandingly. "You do what you have to do, Jess. But don't get discouraged if you don't find anything today. We'll really be fine with my income," she reassured her daughter.

"I know, but it would be nice to have my own spending money. Besides, it looks like LA is going to be a lot more expensive than back home so I want to help you out as much as possible."

"I do appreciate it, honey. Good luck on the job hunt!" Her mom reached out for a hug. Jess consented, then dashed out the front door, pulling on a grey jersey as she did so. She glared up at the equally grey skies as she got her 10-speed bicycle out of the garage. What was this business about Southern California being sunny all the time? So far in the two days she had been here, the fabled sunshine had failed to materialize and temperatures hovered in the upper 50s to lower 60s. They'd hardly seen a glimpse of their neighbors and the Pacific ocean had been flat the one time she and her mother drove down to check out the beach, five blocks from their new house. So far, it was all a big letdown. But Jess was hopeful as she pedaled westward toward the Venice boardwalk and the many eateries they'd seen there. Surely one of them would need help.

As she approached Pacific Avenue, the ocean gradually revealed itself, vast like everyone said it was, and the same leaden color as the skies. The waves were small and choppy, kicked up a bit by the freshening late morning breeze. Jess wanted to talk to potential employers before the lunch rush kicked in, so she spurred her bike onward, making a left onto the broad, palm-lined avenue, headed toward the north part of town. Two blocks later she saw a likely prospect on the ocean side of the street – a large one-story wooden building painted burgundy with a big sign reading "VENICE NOODLE COMPANY" over the front doors.

Jess chained her bike to a nearby lightpost and walked into the restaurant, which was decorated in a neo-Victorian manner, with dark wood booths and stained glass hanging lamps. Seemed classy enough, although there were no patrons at that early hour. They must have just opened for the day, she thought as she scanned the room for someone to talk to. A 40-ish looking heavyset man with thinning dark hair stepped out from a side room and approached Jess."Good morning, can I help you?"

Jess put on a bright smile. "Umm, yes…are you the manager?"

"Yep. Joe Clark." He extended a hand, which Jess quickly shook in ladylike fashion.

"Mr. Clark. I'm new in town and was wondering if you had any waitressing or hostess positions open? I'm experienced-" Jess broke off speaking as the older man shook his head negatively.

"Gotta say, I have all the help I need right now. Almost overstaffed, in fact. We get a little slower this time of year, not the best time for the tourists unfortunately."

Jess was let down but nodded understandingly. As she was about to inquire about other prospects in the area, the back door to the kitchen swung open and a young man walked out carrying a serving tray loaded with salt and pepper shakers. He was clad in faded bluejeans, and an orange tee shirt, with a slightly stained white apron covering his front. His sun-streaked light blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, revealing a handsome face with high cheekbones, an arrow-straight nose and a slightly squared off jaw. His eyebrows were equally light and almost invisible at the outmost corners of his almond-shaped aqua blue eyes. He seemed to be lost in thought as he crossed the room and went to a table to fill salt shakers, his back to the dining room. The back of his shirt had a "Mr. Zog's Sex Wax" logo and Jess was inwardly delighted – finally, a real California surfer guy!

Mr. Clark looked across the room at the busboy and frowned slightly. "Not that shirt again," he muttered under his breath, then turned his attention back to Jess, who was suppressing an amused smile. "Anyway, we don't have anything right now, but if you want to take an application and bring it back, we do sometimes have openings."

"Sure, thanks," Jess replied as the older man reached under the hostess station and retrieved an application paper, handing it to her with a nod. "There ya go. Good luck. You might want to try looking south of here, we're sort of at the nothern end of the better part of town. It gets a little rough after this block," he cautioned.

"Ok, thank you so much for the advice," she said gratefully as she headed toward the front doors, sparing another glance at the cute blonde guy who was still hunched over the table, apparently oblivious to the conversation that had just taken place. As she pushed the door open she heard the manager say "Stacy, I need you to clean these glass doors before people get here…"