Friday, October 29, 2010

Adventures in LA (Part II)

...so, it was 1:30am and I was in an elevator leaving a rooftop club with my Hostess when the guy with the gorgeous Sofia-esque woman (we'll call her Sofia Jr.) started peppering my hot Hostess and I with obnoxious questions about whether we were together, whether we were lesbians, and they just got more intrusive from there. Under any other circumstances, I would have told him to f*** off, but I was very aware of Sofia Jr. just standing there quietly looking me up and down with a great amount of interest as I fired back witty responses to her obnoxious little friend. When we got to the ground floor and were about to go our separate ways, she finally piped up and asked where we were headed next. I couldn't help smiling because now I knew for sure that she was digging me and ready to do something about it, but I had a flight to catch in a matter of hours and I was with my Hostess who had left her car at my hotel, so I told Sofia Jr. we were done for the night and heading back to my hotel. Not to be deterred, she immediately responded that she had a key to the pool at my hotel (apparently members of the in crowd in hollywood have this key because the pool is totally secluded, so they like to party/skinny dip there in the wee hours of the morning) and that she would drive us back to my hotel and hit the pool with us.

Of course the oblivious guy (who had flown down from San Fran just for a second date with Sofia Jr., the lesbonic closet case) objected, but all the girls knew what was going on, so we just ignored him while we set off to try to find Sofia Jr.'s black Range Rover (since she had no idea where she parked it, or rather she had at least ten ideas on the subject, all of which were wrong, the biggest wrong idea being that she had driven to the club that night, which she hadn't). We spent the next 15 minutes drunkenly wandering the streets looking for the RR, with Sofia Jr. and I walking 20ft ahead of the guy and my Hostess while she clung to my arm whispering to me how much she wanted to come back to my hotel to "party" with me, but that we had to get rid of this guy who thought he was going home with her since he came all the way to LA just to visit her. Finally, the guy gets annoyed and comes up to us and starts whining about how tired he is and suggests they give up the hunt for the RR and walk or cab it back to Sofia Jr.'s place. Seeing an opportunity to get rid of him diplomatically we both say (probably with way too much enthusiasm) that we totally understand if he wants to cut out early to get some sleep and Sofia Jr. says she'll call him in the morning. 

At this point, the guy starts to furrow his brow because he is slowly comprehending that something is going on, but he's not quite sharp enough to figure out what. So, he puts his arm around Sofia Jr. and says he thinks she should come with him and of course she says no, she wants to hang out with us. They go back and forth a few times and finally she shoots me a "save me" look, and since things couldn't possibly get any more awkward I say something like, "listen, the good news is your friend found someone she really wants to go home with tonight, the bad news is it's not you...but I'm sure she will call you in the morning." Suddenly he understands half of what's going on and as his face turns red and the veins start popping out of his neck, he grabs Sofia Jr. with both hands and starts shouting at her like she's deaf, "this D*** wants to F*** you! Do you get that??? Do you get what's going on??? This D*** wants to F*** you!!!" If he thought she would scream, throw her hands up in the air and run off into the night as fast as her legs could carry her, he was incorrect, except for that last part. What happened next all happened very fast: Sofia Jr. was shouting at the guy not to touch her, I was saying something snarky to him about my being pretty sure the feeling was mutual and my ridiculously awesome Hostess was trying to talk the hot pocket of rage down when all of the sudden Sofia Jr. grabbed my hand and took off sprinting away from this guy as fast as she could in her killer heels, dragging me in tow. We sprinted hand-in-hand for about two blocks (with the hot pocket chasing us for the first block, screaming at Sofia Jr. about what a B**** and a W**** she was) until we found a cab we could jump into. 

When we finally stopped laughing long enough to breath, it dawned on me that we had left my poor little Hostess with the hot pocket from hell and I told Sofia Jr. we had to go back for her (even though we were definitely risking another altercation with the hot pocket). Praise be to Jesus it took us so long to get back to the corner we had left them on in our drunken haze, that by the time we got there, they were gone and shortly thereafter I got a text from my Hostess saying that she had grabbed a cab, remarking on what a "really fun night" it had been and what "a delight" I was (you can imagine my surprise when I called her the next day to apologize and she informed me that her text hadn't been sarcastic at all and proceeded tell me that she had never met anyone quite like me, explaining, "you're like this hot, hilarious rockstar...but you're so smart and such an awesome person at the same time," leaving me to ponder for the rest of the day how highly she must have thought of me before I ditched her with the hot pocket). At any rate, after three more loops in the cab trying to locate the RR that had never left Sofia Jr.'s driveway, I finally put my foot down and told her I was calling off the search over her emphatic objections. I gave her the option of being dropped off at her place or coming back to my hotel with me, prompting her to grunt in frustration (because she was convinced her car was going to be towed), hold her hands up like claws and hiss at me through her clenched jaw, "I just want to punch you, tear you up and kiss you all at the same time." "Okay," I said, "so, I'm gonna take that as a yes on my hotel."

It wasn't long before we were snuggled up in bed with a bottle of wine and she was telling me all about her existence as a gorgeous closet case in hollywood and the relationships she had had with certain closet case actresses over the years. The only woman I heard about who isn't still in the closet (i.e. who had the integrity to be honest and do right by the woman she loved even though she knew she would pay a big price for it) is lindsay lohan, so she is the only one I'll mention, just to give her props for having so much more integrity than her closet case peers in hollywood. Both Sofia Jr. and Tyler Shields couldn't say enough about how smart lindsay is and what a sweetheart she is, but her courage on the being out in hollywood front is really above and beyond in that world. I'm also in her corner, of course, because she has great taste in cars, which goes a very long way with me, the latest example being the Cayman S she was driving pre-rehab. So, back to the closet cases, it turns out Sofia Jr. had been having a relationship on the DL for the last three years with a very beautiful actress (the only hint I will give is that she has a famous actor father) and it all ended a few months back when they went away together and this actress was driving an Audi A8 at 100+ in a 35 and Sofia Jr. kept begging her to slow down, which she wouldn't and they ended up in a really bad accident that was so traumatic she can't talk about it without bursting into tears and she still has physical injuries from it. So, yeah...that sort of ended the relationship (and you won't find anything online about the accident because it happened out in the middle of nowhere, so the press never found out about it) and according to her, the whole agreeing to go out on a couple dates with the hot pocket was a direct result of the PTSD. 

In the morning she explained while I packed, "As soon as I saw you, I started wondering what I was doing with him, and the more you talked, the worse it got." When I started laughing and told her a few of my choice stories about this effect I have on closet cases that makes them want to come clean after years of suppressing their lesbonic leanings (from a british airways stewardess, to a ridiculously hot westchester housewife I sat next to on a flight to London to a well-known broadway actress daughter of a client) she asked, "so, I was just totally typecast?""Pretty much, tiger, pretty much," I said nodding as a string of irate text messages from the hot pocket hit her phone. After she read them out loud and we had a good laugh, she said, "you know what the best part is? he will suffer this humiliation totally alone because he will be too embarrassed to ever tell any of his friends what happened." (to be clear, we only saw this as a good thing because he was a dbag, if he was a nice person we wouldn't have wanted him to suffer alone) "You know what's even better?" she asked laughing hysterically now at the thought in her head, "for the rest of his life, he is going to tell himself that I was too drunk to understand that I was going home with a lesbian and that I really caused that whole scene because I was that excited about hanging out by the pool at your hotel." Truer words were never spoken.