A Tale Of Two Garths. Chapter 5. Bathing Suit’s and Humble Pie.

When I went to work at Friday’s that night to retrieve Claire’s purse, I was looking forward to hearing the story of how my friends managed to get us kicked out of two bars in less than one hour. I walked into work and saw Carl seated at the bar. I walked up to him and sat down next to him. Carl was a man of intimidating stature. He was very well built and you could tell he worked out all the time, probably even when he was sleeping.
“Thank you so much for bringing my roommate’s purse back. I really appreciate it,” I said to the Incredible Hulk sitting on my right.
“It’s not a problem,” he said. “I only live ten minutes from here.”
“So…if you don’t mind me asking, what happened last night?” Carl took a deep breath and rolled his eyes back in his head a little.
“Okay, it all started off fine. Tony, Donna, your roommate and I were all dancing when your roommate started doing some really sexy moves on the dance floor.” I just sat there listening and shaking my head because I knew exactly what moves he was talking about. Claire does this sexy S type move where she leads with her head and then her giant breasts, and it moves down to her pelvis. Men are usually powerless against it.
“Well then some guy came up and started trying to grind on her. Then I told him to back off and that’s when he asked me if I was her boyfriend.” At this point I was already wincing with my face in my hands, because I knew where this was going.
“What did Claire do?” I asked.
“Nothing! She just kept dancing!” Carl said clearly irritated.
“So I told the guy I wasn’t her boyfriend but I was a friend and that’s when he pushed me and told me to fuck off. So I hit him. Next thing I know I’m in a fight, Tony’s in a fight, and all four of us are getting drug outside by the bouncers.”
“I am so sorry,” I told him. “Claire is kind of high maintenance.”
“I actually kind of liked her. I mean she’s gorgeous and all, but man is she trouble.”
“Thanks again for bringing her purse,” I said as I checked my watch. I had to be at the shift meeting in ten minutes so I had to go. “It was really nice meeting you.”
“Yeah, you too,” Carl replied. And that was the last time I ever saw him again. He didn’t ask for my roommate’s number and I’m pretty sure he probably changed his just in case he had given it to her. But it wasn’t a problem because she wasn’t interested in Carl. Which was actually a good thing for Carl. Because when she likes a guy watch out. She had gone out on a date with Eric Karros of the LA Dodgers once and when he didn’t call her later, she began driving my his house and sending him underwear in the mail. Men just love it when a woman sends them her granny panties.

I had possibly the most entertaining roommates in the world. Oh yes, Hung was entertaining as well; I just haven’t gotten to that part yet. But my job still sucked. I had kissed so much head server ass that it was beginning to look like my lips were permanently attached to their butt cheeks. But no matter what I did the cute guys would always get the sweet stations and I would keep going home with just enough money to put gas in my car and eat for the day. And just as I was about to lose hope I got a phone call.
“There’s a job opening at Stanley’s if you want to come down and interview,” I heard over the phone. It was my friend Renee, who would later morph into the two-faced bridge troll, but that’s a different story. Renee was a server at Stanley’s, and she knew how badly I was hurting.
“Oh that would be great! I’m not making ANY money at Friday’s and my savings is pretty much gone. “
“Well I told my manager about you and she’s expecting a call,” Renee said. I was so excited. I had known Renee through Garth. They had been friends since they were in high school. I first met Renee at my graduation party from SDSU. My roommates threw me a huge party and Garth’s friends from LA had come down. There was Renee, Shad, Becky and his friend Doug. They had all been friends for a very long time and were a really tight group. I had only hung out with the group a handful of times and was very appreciative that when the job opened up she thought of me.

The prospect of changing jobs again was a little scary. I didn’t have the luxury of time to go through another training like I did at Fridays. I needed to get on the floor and start making tips as soon as I got in the door. Luckily things were going my way and not only did I get the job, but I got five shifts right out of the gate with a very short training period. I started making money immediately and things were looking up.

I had already gotten my headshots done before I moved to LA so now that I had a little extra money I could afford to get them printed up in large quantities. It was time to look for an agent. I started reading all the industry magazines and auditioning for every job I could find that didn’t require an agent to get in the door. I mailed headshots and resumes out by the dozens to acting and modeling agencies, casting directors, and producers. I probably spent more on postage than I did on groceries. But I wasn’t in LA to eat. I was in LA to act and acting and eating are just two things that usually don’t go together. It took a lot of mailings and a lot of meetings but I landed a commercial agent in a matter of weeks. I was stoked. My commercial agent was Commercials Unlimited, one of the largest commercial agents in Los Angeles. I was sure I had struck gold. And I did. But what I didn’t know was that I was about to eat some rather large pieces of humble pie.

My first audition called for a fresh faced, beach type, California girl. This is going to be so easy, I told myself. I was from Cali, I was fresh faced, and I had lived at the beach for the past couple of years. I didn’t need to audition; I was exactly what they were looking for. So I wore my usual clothes, which consisted of a pair of shorts, a cute tank top, Birkenstocks and minimal makeup. I was set and ready. I drove to that audition full of confidence, walked in the door and came face to face with breasts and bikinis. Oohhhh shit. I looked so homely next to these girls it wasn’t even funny. If we had all gone to a bar together, I would have had guys fighting over me. Not because they wanted me, but because they didn’t want to get stuck with the hot girls’ homely friend. *Sigh*

“How’d it go?” I heard my agent asked when he called later that day.
“Um..not so well. Everyone had on bikinis and makeup except for me.”
“Stacy, I told you they wanted to see girls from the beach.”
“You said beachy. You didn’t mention bikini.” I could hear him sigh on the other end of the phone and then he let out a little laugh.
“Okay Stace, you’re right. I did say beachy. You’re new to this so I should have been clearer. Next time anything involves the beach make sure you have on a bikini under your clothes, okay?”
“Alright. But I don’t really like bathing suit stuff. Can you just send me out on stuff where people wear clothing?”
“I’ll do my best,” he said. But he didn’t sound convincing. I spent the rest of the evening eating 100-calorie soup and working out for hours. I was so depressed not even a phone call from the love of my life could cheer me up. It was time for a trip to San Diego. Time to go back to the real world where everyone was normal and not grown in pods just waiting to hatch and strike us down with their beauty. I needed a taste of reality, I needed a hug, and I needed Garth.

To be continued…

Love it? Hate it? Let me know! Send questions, comments, brownie recipes or random brainfarts to: mrsdiagnosed@yahoo.com

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