Sunday, November 28, 2011
I can’t describe how much I love riding my bike in the city, I just love it, especially at night. I don’t know why I love it so much, but I do. Last night, I was riding down Hollywood Boulevard at about 11:00 pm soaking it all in. I will really miss it. There are a lot of things I’m going to miss. I don’t have many regrets, but there are some things I want to try to get in before I leave.
Mostly, I want to go to a cocaine party.
Hey, I think cocaine is bad, and gross, and illegal, and I don’t want to do cocaine in the least. I don’t even really want to be close to it. I just want to be in the same vicinity. It’s just so LA.
Here it is, I want to be at a party where someone says, “Hey, did you know they’re doing cocaine in the next room?” I’ll just smile and nod and know that I’m in the right place. There are certain stereotypical things that are just so Hollywood. I feel like the cocaine party is something that I have missed out on. I’m pretty sure that people at a cocaine party don’t call it a cocaine party, but when I’m there they’ll probably tell me what the proper name is.
Here’s the picture of what I want:
The party is at a house in the Hollywood Hills overlooking the city. The house is mostly white and shiny with a lot of glass. The furniture is spare in the big living room and most of it looks uncomfortable. I will sit down on something I assume is a chair, only to find out it’s a terrarium, or something like that. I will be wearing a suit, with no tie, and probably a black button down shirt, unbuttoned a few buttons more than usual at the top. Just for that night I will slick my hair back and wear a pinky ring.
I’ll arrive alone, but immediately people will know me. Chaz will be there. I’ll probably be a little bit sweaty, because it’s cool to have a good glisten, but also because I parked my 2001 Honda Accord about a mile away so no one at the cocaine party will see it.
I’ll tour around the house a bit when I get there appreciating the artwork, which will strangely be mostly nude paintings of the host. I’ll giggle when I see them. I’ll even come across the laundry room, which doesn’t look frumpy like a normal laundry room, they’ll have a bottom loading washer/dryer combo. Eventually, I’ll make my way to the shiny deck that overlooks the city and the pool. After awhile, people will jump in with their clothes on, and they’ll all be good looking.
There will be groups of people having conversations and as I walk up an opening in the group will automatically open. I’ll introduce myself and quickly realize that everyone is just lying. After a round of introductions I’ll ask people what they do.
Then, they’ll ask me, and I’ll say:
They won’t ask me what that could possibly mean, because we’re all under the understanding that we’re lying, like when the dental hygienist asks you if you’ve been flossing. I’ll ask them if this is a cocaine party and they’ll say, “Hey, be cool Cowboy Surgeon, we don’t call it that. It’s called a Blizzard Fiesta.” I’ll think it’s a lame name, but I’ll keep it to myself.
I’ll make friends with a guy named Fransisco and we’ll talk about LA traffic and parking. A couple of times I will accidentally let it slip that I work at a mall, but I’ll quickly transition it into something else so Fransisco is none the wiser.
“I know what you mean, Fransisco,” I’ll say. “I was at the food court the other..”
Fransisco will say, “Food court? Like at a mall?”
I’ll say,”Fransisco, baby, do you think I would visit a mall? Gross. You didn’t let me finish. I was at food court because I was arrested for eating shrimp smuggled from Cuba, so they sent me to food court.”
We’ll laugh, me nervously, and Fransisco heartily, because everything I say at this party is comedy gold.
While we’re laughing, a smoking hot girl will approach us and say, “Hey Fransisco and Cowboy Surgeon, did you know that there is cocaine in the other room?”
I’ll just smile and nod as I walk away because I can go home now.