The Loaded One Night Stand

Everyone has one. The guy you thought for years was your one until finally you came to your senses about him. Realized that the only way to have anything with this person is through sex, and during a desperate attempt at trying to get rid of these feelings... I finally give in and booty call him!

I arrive promptly at 1:15 at his very posh Hollywood apartment. Sign in, escorted up the elevator by a security guard, then am passed over to him. My prince charming... well so I thought. He was waiting at the door for me. Cute, fit, and totally adorable.

We spent several minutes on idle chat, and a quick tour of the "loft" then we get to it. There is no real sex, just a lot of licking and sucking. Slight cuddling, perhaps a date proposal that I completely avoided, then the moment came when I for the first time ever knowing this person asked to sleep over... and well... he kicked me out.

Quickly, I grab my shoes, and the remains of my clothing... throwing them all on and rushing for the door when of course, he says, "you can't walk to your car alone."

Is he fucking kidding me!?!?! I walked from my car into this (less spectacular than expected) "Loft" or I would call it "Room." Why do care if I make it home or not? You will never care really... you just want to make sure that you were respectful enough to me so that I will never begrudge you enough to black list you from one of my movies or TV shows. Or perhaps, so whenever it is you decide that you do want to actually be with a woman on a real level you will know that someone will be here waiting for you... to give you whatever it is that you feel like you need. But whatever the reason is that you want to walk me to my car, I will let you. Because for the last time, I will let you make me feel needed, only this time I know that you will never really need me. This one night stand taught me everything that the psychic told me I would get from you...

So, for the first time ever I realized that it wasn't about you and me. It was about you OR me. I choose me. I choose MY needs today. I will keep calling you because there are several things that I need from you... but a relationship more than one where I show up at your house at 1am, is absolutely NOT one of them. I don't know your calls, or dinner dates. I need you to stop texting me when you're home with your family siting you can't stop thinking about me when you're in my home state. Don't text me on Sunday night to remind me of how nice it was to see me... I know I'm lovely to be around... I am certain that you enjoy your time with me... I give your little pee pee a little suck (clearly for the first time in a while), and you return the favor. That's all we ever really enjoyed about each other...

The chit chat was always rather painful!

So love, I did not find... but peace with the idea that you are in fact not the one... I did find. Sometimes, you have to cut the wound to make sure it's healing properly.

What We Thought We Got Into the Biz For

The Premieres. Ahh, yes. It wasn't the fame and the fortune that drew me in, however, it was glamour of prancing down the red carpet hearing people scream my name for a photo at the premieres that made the biz a no brainer for me. Who knew that working in Hollywood for as long as I have that no one would yell to me for a picture time, upon my red carpet arrival. But I guess it's better that way...

I arrive. Parking about 7 blocks from the actual screening (in LA it may as well be a mile), hearing the sound of 3 inch siletoes endlessly on the pavement, and the sound or familiar strangers trying to make small talk with each other... I believe we call this smoozing. I take in the fresh but causal appeal surrounding me, making mental notes about cute outfit I will want to try at the next one.

Seeing faces I wish I never had to see again. They are the people who thought that I would disappear one day after treating me like total shit after I landed them their rising super star clients. Then starting a trend of not wanting to answer my calls, when I came to them asking for help with a job search. I guess I can be thankful that I landed on my feet, because the one trying to make conversation with me now... was just kicked at of the TV department at the agency. Demoted down to the media division. There is a brief silent "yay" from my inner childlike voice after I accidentally carried on and on about the status of one of those clients I helped him sign... and how fabulous his career is going. Oh then, I even said "thanks for making that such a great place for him to land. The agency really worked out for him."

With his tail between his legs, he replies, "yea, there wasn't any room for growth in scripted TV."

"Well, I'm sure that you'll love your time putting together those thou's, effectively's and all the other legal mumbo jumbo's in your new position outside of the spot light, while someone else looks out for that writer I practically signed for you. Yes, the one you kissed my ass for, promising me a bright new future for, oh and I will never forget the Laker's games you basically dragged me to in order for me to make cheerful banter with your client to be - because you never knew how.

But life is about lessons, and I am learning here. The one that came from that is that Hollywood is a battle ground. There are two types of people... your trenchmates, and well, the enemy. Most are enemies.

Of course, my girlfriends who hate playing the Hollywood game of who's cock is bigger, all insisted that I leave the boy alone. I mean one day I may be down and I would hate to see him kick me... even though he already had.

Oh right, my premiere. SEX DRIVE. Tracking is low. The movie may not hit 5 million, but of course we'll blame marketing. I mean they did insist that a man dressed in a donut costume was funny that an Amish rager featuring the music of none other than Fall Out Boy.

Chirp, Chirp. Sitting through the screening for the 17th time... I can't check my emails because my boss is sitting 3 seats over and HATES seeing the light go on and off. Reading is out of the question, it's dark. Sleeping, what if I snore or worse drool on the brand new dress I bought for this? The guy in the seat in front of me leans back, laying out almost in my lap. Now, I can't move either!

TWO HOURS LATER:

Through it all, we are all gathered here together, to release this film on 2453 screens. PARTY!

The child I have been raising is now going off to war... without a helmet.

Clark Duke, the raising star of the film... offers me a ciggie. I gladly except only because I have a thing for brilliant men... even if they aren't sexy (and perhaps even slightly fat), but I mean he is funny. Cough, Cough as I inhale a moment of what could actually close the deal. Looking away only briefly but apparently long enough for a skinny, model type to steal the show... suddenly, it's as if we barely even spoke. No love from the chubby dude I insisted was brilliant enough to play the suave Casanova role in the film.

Then, my once lover agent friend, who of course now covers my studio is staring intensely. "Who is he looking at?" I mean, I really think he forgot who I was after he cheated on me with Sam from WHO'S THE BOSS (but honestly who could blame him, isn't it every boys childhood dream). The fact of the matter is that we never actually dated anywhere other than inside my mind... but I always wanted to. Until moments later, when he makes his way to me and says... "B, can we grab drinks sometime really soon?" Another lesson, this is code for "you are actually pretty cute, let's grab a cocktail and if convo's not bad, then we'll have a meal together."

Two beers later, I am exhausted. Too much energy has spent defending my film, my reputation, and hell, my need for a little bit of attention...

Why did I get into this business again? Oh yea, for the art of story telling!

Second Date Perplexity

I am sensing a pattern forming. First dates go fabulous. Second seem to go the same... but then... no call for a third. What is it that I am doing wrong? I mean realistically fellas, the third date is suppose to be the one that you are working so hard to impress me for... isn't it the rule that we're suppose to have a good solid roll in the hay after date two. You're suppose to "cook" dinner for me at your place and then we'll "watch" a movie. So what could I possibly be doing to turn you off so badly that you wouldn't even want to spend 3 more potentially pain free hours with me, so that I can rock your world.

I mean last time, I accidentally said the "M" word on the second date. No need to explain that it was completely out of context, but still I can understand that making a boy a bit too shaky to come back for a bedtime story.

To fix this problem, my therapist suggests closely examining all of my second dates, and report back... so we can learn my flaws. I will do it aloud here, so that everyone can learn from my mistakes.