The Hollywood Party: Your Stereotypical Three-Meal Course

7/31/2019 The Hollywood Party: Your Stereotypical Three-Meal Course

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The Hollywood PartyYour Stereotypical Three-Course Meal

I like to imagine that the Hollywood Party back in the day was decorated

with gin martinis and hand gloves. Swing dancing and crudits on porcelain

platters. And sure: a little game of hot-and-bothered on the mahogany desk

in hosts executive home office, where maybe we accidentally tip over the

ink well onto the floor and scurry out, giggling. A bit of crazy with a bunch

of classy.

However, my assumed image of Hollywood socializing has evolved into a

much more modernized version.

The invitation started with: I want you to meet my agent.

My ears perk up: I can get him to sign you.

I think: We!, why not.

Allow me to tell you why not.

Beware: We are about to enter the Hollywood Stereotype.


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THE HOLLYWOOD PARTY

The First Stop: The Appetizer: The Hills

Listen, Iknow you dont do drugs and I dont either, but I am going to today so dont judge me.

Suzy presses the gas pedal harder as I check my Facebook for any likes on my new, hilarious status. Only

one like. I dontjudgepeople who partake in the drug culture; I just dontdo.

Dont worry. I plan on wine beingmy focus.

Before we go to the actual Hollywood Party, we have to pick-up Suzys friend, Darren. Darren lives in theHills of Hollywood, where one can easily get lost on the winding streets of BMWs, Land Rovers, andMercedes. Just the thought of swerving through high monthly car payments makes my bartender salaryshudder.

Darren is really great. But just to warn you: He likes to party a lot.

Whatever. I went to college. A college wherePlayboy ranked our female student population in the Hottest Top10. I know whats up. Nobody can fool me. Body shots all around. Permanently sticky belly buttons are in.

After parking half an inch between a 2012 Ferrari and a spotless Lamborghini, Suzy and I climb the stairs to amansion with stained glass doors, where Darren waits for our arrival. We ring the doorbell. Immediately,Darren throws open the door with a smile when he sees Suzy, and the smile dies hard when he casts his eyestowards me.

Darren! Darren, this is Whitney. Whitney, Darren.

Darren looks me up and down like an impeding roller coaster. I have intruded on his territory.

Hi, Whitney. Want to do a bump?

Abump. A bump. That means snorting a small portion of cocaine into my right nostril. Well, Darren I know

you are 28 but you look like you are 41, exactly. We can all thank the amount of coke-ing you do for that. Ireject your rite of passage.

No, thank you.

Darren is offended. Darren doesnt like that I enjoy keeping my nasal septum intact.

Fine. We will be right back. LAURA WILL YOU PLEASE TAKE CARE OF WHITNEY. THANKYOU.

Laura shows up with a full glass of Sauvignon Blanc and escorts me to the pool, while Suzy and Darrendisappear into a room. The Bumping Room.

I am the toddler that everyone at the pool must babysit. I am the girl in cut-off shorts, with her feet dangling ina pool, while a Bichon Frise wearing a pearl necklace licks my elbow. I just want to know if the string of pearlsis real. Stealing the pearls is an idea.

I wonder how long it takes to pick up Darren for The Hollywood Party. Suzy and Darren return and retreatfrom the pool area about every fifteen minutes to hide away in The Bumping Room. They enjoy repeating theline Be Right Back while my toes prune in the pool water.

OK. WHITNEY. We are going!

YES. Finally. Time for theactualHollywood Party! I chug my glass of wine. I pet the dog and her pearlsgoodbye. I am ecstatic. Darren and Suzy stop me before we get into the car. Darren tells me to get in the backseat.

Just dont embarrass us.18% Gratuity will be added to parties of six or more


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The Second Stop: The Main Course: Hollywood and HighlandWant to do a bump before we go in?

Again, the powder duo inhales and all I want is to get to the party. I imagine a butler, meeting us in the lobby,

where he will escort us to a room filled with several velvet chaise lounges and tables holding bowls ofchocolate-covered almonds. A personal mixologist will offer us customized artisan cocktails. He will smile,shake the alcohol, and pour it over ice as we talk about the Southern California weather, and I fall madly inlove with him and his bow tie. Darren will suddenly be friendly and we will dance to Eartha Kitt. The guestswill be charming and well-dressed. We will all get a little silly and find each other on Twitter. I will hashtag#TheHollywoodParty!

My daydreaming is interrupted by the fragrance of Busch beer and the cackling of emaciated, blondebombshells. A landscape of red Solo cups and eyes covered by sunglasses. This Hollywood Party is nothinglike my #TheHollywoodParty. This is like college.

It will be fine, I think. Maybe there will be something else going on in the back. I spot the burgers cooking onthe grill. I make myself a nice burger complete with pickles, mustard, ketch---

What the hell do you think you are doing? Suzy finishes her sentence right as I take a bite out of my fineburger.

...I am eating a burger, I mumble as ketchup rolls downs my chin.

Oh.My God. Stop embarrassing me. Donoteat in public. What are you thinking?!

Wait a hot second: I cant eat in public, but you all can do blow out in the open?

Yea, Whitney. You really should have done some coke before you came here, Darren purses his lips togetherand folds his arms.

Right. Because Dr. Oz would prefer that I punch holes in my nasal septum to eating a healthy portion of leanbeef. Got it. The only thing Dr. Oz puts in his nose is the stream from a Neti Pot.

From this point on, I am chastised for not talking to important people, for salsa dancing with an interestingstranger, for eating heavily frosted cupcakes, for all the doing and not doing. I am so overwhelmed anduncomfortable that I let the boxed wine take over. I think I give someone my phone number. A man promisesme that one day he will be an agent and will sign me and make me a star. Meanwhile, Darren and Suzy arerepeating Be Right Back like the chorus to a musical number. I am starting to miss my pearled Bichon Frise.

I meet the agent with a Hello and a hand shake. He has an agenda and I, the stranger am not on it. But I amjust fine with that. He had a horrible hair cut.

WHITNEY. WE ARE GOING.

Like a lost lamb, I am herded once again into the backseat.

You did OK tonight. But we must teach you how to behave, Darren lectures as he looks at himself in therearview mirror. This isnt the MidWest anymore, honey.

18% Gratuity will be added to parties of six or more


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The Third Stop: The Dessert: The Gas Station

The gas tank is about to hitempty. We stop at a gas station.

I need to get a pack of cigarettes. Whitney, you want to come in to get a SNACK?!

The two laugh at Darrens joke as I decide that yogurt pretzels sound like a great option.

Standing in line to pay, Darren pokes my side and points to behind the chip and cracker aisle. He smirks.

When did your boyfriend get here?

An old, crippled Hispanic man mops the floors with his head down. It is 2AM. I realize that Darren expectsme to laugh, but I dont. Darren isnt funny. Darren is lonely.

The next morning when I get into my own car, I sit for awhile before driving. I text by best friend I miss you.

Want to get coffee and write tomorrow? I look at pictures of my sisters artwork on her website. I like heracrylic paintings. I think about how I love to run in the mornings. I look forward to acting class this evening. Iam OK with the death of #TheHollywoodParty that I imagined.

Silence. I turn to my classical music on 91.5FM. Tap my finger on the steering wheel. Encourage the engine.Drive away.

!18% Gratuity will be added to parties of six or more

Copyright LA TRAFFIC 2011/2012. All rights reserved.

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The Hollywood Party: Your Stereotypical Three-Meal Course