Every few weekends, my wife and I go for a drive in Los Santos. Itineraries vary. Sometimes we get a submarine and explore the oceans. Sometimes, inspired by shows like Million Dollar Listing and Selling Sunset, we head up to the Hills and have a pleasant in-game evening racing through rich people’s backyards. My wife knows the game much better than me, which makes for an unusual dynamic. I know Los Angeles, which Los Santos is based on, but she is far more familiar with Rockstar’s version. In other words, I’m often a backseat passenger in the endless lateral tracking shot that defines the common experience of both of these car-centric cities.
