"What's this, a lighter?" asked the off-duty cop on security duty at the celebrity gathering on a saturday night. He was searching her bag for weapons and had pulled out her dugout, filled with pot. Without bothering to look, because she knew she had a number of lighters on that bag, she said "yeah."
He asked again, "So this is a lighter," holding open the wooden case. Annoyed, she focused on what he was holding and saw the green inside, peeking out. "Ahhhh, yeah," she said as the confidence drained out of her body and she diverted her eyes to the floor. "With tobacco..." she whisperered. Suddenly the imposing black man smiled and said, "that's what I thought."
He gave her the pocketbook back with everything intact and she and her friend were led upstairs to the gathering.
She stepped into the elevator and smiled at The New Big Model Cum Rockstar Slut, who was smiling at her, but behind the facade she thought she was going to pass out from the stress of the moment that had passed and the sheer stupidity of what she had done. Of course they would be searching. What a stupid thing to do.
She ran into several TV stars upstairs and said hello to friends in the business. She and her friend sat and watched the performance.
They went to the after party, turned to make the sure the door didn't slam behind them and saw Mr. Indie Films following them inside.
She drank at her well-placed table and watched as the New York regulars drifted in. Movie Stars, rock stars, TV stars. She watched as the boys and girls alike ogled the young darlings, The New Hot Band, as the androgenous lead singer with a baby face and bee stung lips stood next to her table surrounded by a circle of starfuckers.
As the party wound down, they headed to the next party, the one where only the insiders know to go, and she laughed silently to herself as she walked into the overcrowded commercial space knowing that she had been one of the people who founded this weekly party nearly seven years ago, when it used to be held in hers and her friends cramped apartments. Now she barely recognized anyone there.
She found herself back to back with a member of her favorite music/comedy act, who was smoking a fatty. As she passed her bat to her friends, she caught the other half of the musical duo three people deep behind her, tearing up the dance floor with her friend.
Mr. TV comedy star came up and said hello to her friend, grabbing her arm and stroking suggestedly on the sly. She looked at him, he was on something fast. She's sworn that stuff off, so she subtlely moved away from him, letting him know, she's not down. He backed off, into the crowd.
She turned around and saw various members of the The New Hot Band behind her, and noticed that the lead singer was directly behind her friend who has a crush on him. She eyeballed her friend to go speak with him. Her friend was reluctant, so she pushed her friend into him, hoping that might start something. Didn't work. Everyone was bumping and falling.
She turned around again, and found herself facing Movie Star X. She loves X and as the lights flashed on the dance floor, she watched him dance a path for him and his daughter and she made eye contact. Normally, she would look away, embarrassed for them and their celebrity, but this time she just stared, mute. She couldn't drop her stare, she was fascinated. He was like a man-child. Graying but baby-faced, with a look of glee, almost like he was in high school and had snuck out for the evening.
After a few seconds, she realized that her friends had been screaming her name over the noise that the shitty DJ was playing. This party was like a bad Sweet 16. Wait a second, isn't that an oxymoron? Switching gears, she looked around at her friends. D. laughed and said, "Look at you, staring with stars in your eyes." She laughed, embarrassed at her reaction, after these past years of being around celebrity and she suddenly morphed into a small town tourist. Still, she found her eyes following his X's movement around the room. He intrigued her and she knew she could never have him. Not in a million lifetimes.
She sighed. Her friend came back, she had met one of The New Hot Band. Mission accomplished.
She realized that the crowd was thinning and the star she had come to meet, had already slipped out. As it was 5:30AM, she and her friend decided to call it a night. They left the party and hailed a taxi while chatting with a young new TV star, also waiting for a taxi. He gave them the first taxi.
She rode home through Manhattan as the sun rose and thought to herself, just another night in New York City. They are meaningless to her now, like finding your way into a city-themed snow globe and learning you're just a little plastic figure in a plastic painted world that isn't so fascinating once you get inside and get shaken up.
previous next