A Tale Of Two Garths. Chapter Fifteen – Stoner’s and King’s.


After a long week at work mixed with a little play, Saturday night had finally arrived which meant another Virtuosity party and another raid on Hung’s wardrobe. What can I say; the girl had superb taste in clothing.
“Take what you want,” Hung just said rolling her eyes. I didn’t feel so bad considering I had inside information that she had confiscated a couple of lipsticks of mine and had them hidden in some jeans in her closet. You see, I happen to have superb taste in makeup. Dressed to the nines I headed out the door to brave the LA traffic into downtown.

After I found parking I walked up to an old building that matched the address of the party. I just stood there staring up at the intricate architecture, it was something you didn’t really see in California anymore. In Cali we are all so busy tearing down the old to put up the new I was shocked to see that somehow this treasure found a way to keep itself alive. I was immediately in love. My eyes drifted over the detailed carvings of the columns of the building until they landed on the vintage MAYAN neon sign that proudly told the city of angels “I am still here.” At first I thought, I must be in the wrong place, as I double-checked the directions Shevonne had given me. I was sure there wasn’t any party going on in an old theater decorated with carvings of Mayan warriors. But before I could doubt myself further a couple of overly hip Hollywood types made their way to the front door. All three of them had that rockabilly look to them that I could never seem to pull off. Vintage clothes, tattoos, and an air about them that let anyone who cared to notice that they weren’t just going to a party, there was a good chance they were the party.
“Are you coming?” the man with the black fedora hat and devil tattoo in his forearm asked me. He had held open the door for his friends and was now standing in front of the building holding it open for me. Stacy, you must go inside. Even if it houses vampires and you are about to meet your doom.
“Sure…um, thanks.” I said as I passed him feeling a little self conscious because on a “Cool” scale he was a 10 and I was floating somewhere around a 6. The fedora guy quickly caught up with his friends and I was left behind walking into the lobby of the building. I instantly felt as if I had just somehow been thrown back in time. If it weren’t for the loud dance music I would have sworn I had just entered a scared temple of sorts.

But before I was scooped up by Mayans from the past and had my beating heart cut out of my chest to appease the Gods, I turned the corner and found myself at the doorway that opened up to a giant dance floor. What the hell is going on in here? It was as if someone had broken into a holy place and decided to throw a rave. I didn’t know whose parents owned this temple but I knew someone was going to get into a whole lot of trouble. I stood there in the doorway trying to take it all in. So much detail had gone into the creation of the theater it really was overwhelming. And at the same time, someone had paid almost as much attention to the design of the party. While people danced and mingled images of the Virtuosity movie were being cast up onto high screens that had been strategically hung throughout the theater. Clips of the movie kept flashing in front of me while people below me danced, drank, and networked with one another.

The way the guests interacted I could tell that most everyone knew each other. I made my way into the party and desperately searched for a familiar face. Please tell me they are here somewhere, I thought as I towered over people craning my neck. But so far I didn’t see Shevonne, Brett, Nicole, or even SID 6.7. Maybe they didn’t come. Great, now I just feel stupid. I made my way over to the bar and before I could order a drink I heard my name.
“Stacy.” It was Shevonne.
“Oh Shevonne, it’s so good to see you,” I yelled at her trying to be heard over the thumping base.
“I’m so glad you came,’ she said.
“Me too! This party is really great. I’ve never seen anything like it!”
“It’s the party for the special effects crew,” she yelled back at me. Ahhhh, that explains it. Let me tell you one thing. Parties with Hollywood actors are…well, parties with Hollywood actors. Parties put on by the special effects department are epic! If you get an opportunity to go to either one or the other, pick the special effects party. You won’t regret it.

Shevonne and I got ourselves some cocktails, did some dancing and explored the Mayan Theater.
“Come on, let’s check this place out,” she said with child like enthusiasm as she pulled my hand dragging me back into strangely lit back rooms of the theater.
“Are you sure we’re allowed to be back here?” I asked as we wove our way back through hallways lit by blue lights and it felt almost like I was going into a seedy underworld. Like at any moment someone was going to jump out of the darkness and ask me if I wanted to shoot up. It was intriguing; I’m not going to lie. I was pretty sure we were someplace we weren’t supposed to be which made it all the more exciting. The back of the Mayan wasn’t set up like the front with all the adornment. It was set up like something you would see in a movie about rock bands and crack whores and I was loving every minute of it. We eventually emerged on the other side of the theater where we ran into Brett and his beautiful wife Nicole. We all said our hellos and intermixed with the crowd when Brett leaned into me and whispered in my ear “stoners to the balcony.” Well what could I do? He was singing my song.

Each of us exited the party as discreetly as possible and met up at an exit sign at one of the far ends of the theater. Once again I was thinking I don’t think we are allowed to do this, as Brett pushed his way through the exit and into a hallway with a grated steel staircase. I fell in with the small group that made its way up the stairs and through the door Brett also opened without checking for permission first. He’s going to get us all busted, I just know it. I’m going to go to jail for trespassing and doing drugs on private property. But did it stop me? Did it slow me down? Not even one tiny bit. After we went through Brett’s no permission door we found ourselves on a huge balcony overlooking the party below. The view was truly a sight to be seen. We were close enough to the ceiling to get a good look at the carvings on top of the Mayan and observe the party below us. We sat down in the bench like seats and someone in the small group just started lighting up joints and passing them around. I sat there with my elbows resting on the railing and my head hanging over watching the crowd below. Then I felt a tap on my right arm as Brett handed me a joint and I took a hit. I looked at him for a second and just smiled at him as he smiled back. All I could think to myself was, It must be good to be the king.

We all sat up there for a while but Brett was in high demand so we couldn’t stay. I didn’t want to leave, I just wanted to sit up there for the rest of the party and observe from above. I liked the balcony, it was peaceful. But back down to the dance floor we went. Shevonne and I danced some more. I ate some free food and eventually called it a night. The party was nowhere close to being over but I still had to drive back to the valley. As I was driving home I went over the night in my head. I wondered what it was like to be Brett. What was it like to be the king? All I knew was what it was like to be black balled from movies because I wanted to feed some asshole broccoli. CURSE YOU BROCCOLI! If it wasn’t for you, I could be a king! Or maybe the court jester. I could live with that.

Pictures of The Mayan Theater

http://sites.google.com/site/downtownlosangelestheatres/mayan

To be continued…

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