LA is a city where anything is possible if you look
and act the part. This is a city of models, actors and agents, after all. You
never know who you might be talking to.
My first night in LA, my bff Summer (you might remember her
from the Love Bites blog. She’s back in LA now) took me out to Bar Marmont
which is a short walk from the infamous Chateau Marmont on Sunset Boulevard in
West Hollywood. The mantra of Bar Marmont is “I am young, I am cool and damn
it, people want to be me!” which is a pretty spot on description of the place.
On the weekends you never know who you might see or meet.
Every time I go here I always end up with hilarious stories,
but never a second date. That night was no exception. At 1am, I started a conversation with a divorced, 42 year
old, good-looking guy who had a teenager daughter.
Why is it that men will tell
you almost all of their baggage in five minutes if you are seating next to them
at a bar, but on a proper date or during daytime hours they reveal nothing?
Perhaps because they think they have a chance at getting lucky.
And why do women think that their honesty deserves a reward?
Lonely and drunk at 1am perhaps.
Turned out the guy was a helicopter stunt man who worked on
a bunch of Tom Cruise movies. We
exchanged numbers and a few nights late I went to a poker party he was hosting
at a friend’s house in the valley. I should have known better when he told me
it was 420 friendly. Turned out it was all drug friendly. I’m not any drug
friendly.
In between bartending, setting up lines of cocaine on the
kitchen counter and keeping an eye on the surveillance cameras recording
activity around the house, because the poker party was totally illegal, he told
me he was a drug dealer at night. Just in case I hadn’t figured that out
already. Needless to say I left after an hour and never heard from him again.
Date #1, Fail
