A tale of two Garths. Chapter 31. Screw Stacy’s vote!
After the whole Joan Severance thing I decided that maybe the television and film agent I had wasn’t working in my best interest. I mean, “Body Double for Joan Severance” sounds glamorous and all, but this was a woman who regularly took her clothes off in her films. Which meant that, you guessed it, I would be spending a lot of my time naked as well. And they were still only paying me the stand-in rate of $50.00 a day, rather than the industry standard (yes, I did my research) of $500.00 a day for body double work. When you subtract the 10% I had to fork over to my agent, and the 15% I had to pay my manager, it just got stupid. If I was going to show my bare ass to a bunch of Hollywood execs, I could make more money doing a single lap dance at the Spearmint Rhino. Conclusion: I have a shitty agent! So back to the drawing board I went. It wasn’t as if I was going it alone. I still had my manager and my commercial agent so I was still in the game.
Things at home had started getting weird as well. I was still working out every chance I got and was eating really healthy. But one small problem started to slowly trickle into my life: cocaine. A drug I had never wanted any part of was slowly drawing in the man I loved, and he brought me along for the ride. I’m not going to sit here and tell you I’m some sort of angel because we all know I’m not. With every snorted line we began falling further into what was to become a black hole, and I barely escaped with my life. The descent into the abyss was a sort of trickle. A seeming innocent little drip. Plop. Plop. Plop. A line at a party. A line at a club. No big deal. But with each and every snort of the evil white powder Garth would loose a little more of his soul. And the “Pearl-Flake” devil would gain in strength.
It was almost July again and that meant time for the annual Pig Roast. I was very excited. This time we had some friends from Stanley’s going with us. Ashley and Becky, and their boyfriends Sam and Mark. Garth had known both girls since he was 16. Then our old roommate KC was going to be making the trip again, along with Garth’s brother Adam, and Adam’s girlfriend Teresa. Ashley, Sam, Becky and Mark were planning to rent an RV and drive out to Colorado, stopping along the way to see the sights. And Garth, KC, Adam, Teresa, and myself had rented a Lincoln Town car and were going to make the trip that way. Everything was planned and set in stone. We all had our Pig Roast sponsors and now we just had to count down the days till total freedom!!
“Stacy, I can’t let you off for the time you requested,” my manager Amy told me three days before we were set to leave for Colorado.
“What?” Is she fucking kidding me?
“I’m sorry but with Garth, Ashley, Sam, Becky, and Mark all taking off, I just can’t afford to let you off too.” I thought my brain was going to explode.
“But the reason everyone is taking off is because we are all going to the pig roast in Colorado. Garth’s dad and friends do this every year.”
“I’m sorry, I just can’t do it.”
“Soooooo…what you’re telling me is, that everyone gets to go to Colorado with Garth except for his girlfriend. Yeeeeaaah.” And that was all I could say. She gave me the look that told me our conversation was over. I was pissed! I had picked up every shift possible. I had done so many favors for so many people to get all my shifts covered for the time I would be gone that I had worked 18 days in a row already. Most of them being doubles. The irony of the whole damn thing was, I had traded so many shifts that even if I did stay it wouldn’t matter. Why? Because I had covered all my shifts!! Amy was going to put me on call. So I was most likely just going to sit at home and wait for someone to get sick. I couldn’t even go out of town to visit my mom or dad. Why? Just in case someone got sick!!!! No way in hell! Oh you don’t know me very well do you? I AM going to Colorado, Amy. Just watch the master work.
Later that night, after my second shift of the day had ended, and after Amy had gone home, I sought out my wonderful, gay, BFF manager Steve.
“Steeeeeeve,” I said in my sweetest ass-kissing voice.
“Yeeeeeeeessss,” he replied.
“Um, Amy told me today that I couldn’t go to Colorado, but that everyone else could.”
“She told me I couldn’t go because everyone else was going and that’s too many people off at the same time even though I’ve already covered all my shifts anyway!” I blurted out in one giant run on sentence. *Deep breath*
“I know!” I knew he would see it my way.
“How many shifts have you worked anyway? You’ve been here every time I’ve been here.”
“18. In a row.”
“Well you, my dear, need some time off. I’ll take care of it.”
And that is how you play the game.
The next morning I came into work knowing I was going to have to face Amy again.
“So, I guess you can go to Colorado,” she said in an irritated tone.
“Thank you,” I said back trying to contain my ha ha ha ha ha.
It was finally over. I had finished my longest running stint of waiting tables. 19 days in a row with 15 doubles. And I didn’t kill one single person in the process.
“Oh my God I’m so glad it’s over,” I told Garth and KC as I plopped my overly tired ass on the couch. That’s when I noticed my shampoo, conditioner, body lotion, and my one jar of almond butter sitting on the coffee table.
“What are you guys doing to my stuff?”
“We need a place to hide the drugs,” Garth told me as if my question was a stupid one.
“Um…,” I really didn’t know what to say. I just sat there as I watched them shove small plastic baggies of magic mushrooms into my conditioner and them shake the bottle up.
“Why couldn’t you use your stuff? Why did it have to be my stuff?” They both just stared at me.
“Because cops aren’t going to dump out bottles of shampoo and conditioner looking for drugs,” Garth told me. That totally didn’t answer my question.
Then I watched them scoop out the center of my somewhat expensive almond butter and shove a sack of weed inside the jar and put the scoop back on top. I can’t tell if they’re total idiots or criminal masterminds. By the time they got done, most of my personal products had been tainted. If I washed my hair I would be up for a week. If I conditioned it I would hallucinate. And if I ate the almond butter I would just want to sit around and watch Ren & Stimpy. At that point I was just too tired to care.
The next day everyone met up at our apartment. We shoved all of our luggage into the trunk and did our best to close it. KC and Adam had become roommates since Garth had moved to LA and Adam’s girlfriend more or less detested KC. It was going to be a very long trip.
“I’ll do the first shift,” I volunteered. This was huge considering that by the time we got on the road we would be facing rush hour traffic in Los Angeles. And this move earned me big brownie points. But let’s be honest: it’s always rush hour traffic in Los Angeles, and I had seen the backseat. I would rather be crammed in the middle of traffic on the 405 freeway than be crammed in the backseat.
It took us hours to get out of Cali. We just sat and sat in traffic. All the while KC and Teresa bickered in the backseat. I hate them, I thought to myself as I stared at the taillights in front of me telling me I wasn’t going anywhere. After three hours I clocked out and Adam took over. I climbed into the back seat and sat between KC and Garth. Now we had three long legged people sitting in the back fighting for room. I would shove KC with my right leg and he would push back just as hard with his left. I felt like a freaking squashed sardine. Before long both Garth and KC fell asleep and both of them lost control of their bodies. I felt every turn of the road as their large frames rolled from side to side with me in the middle. I’m going to be smothered to death I just know it. Their long legs hung open as I pushed and shoved them both from side to side. Then as if it wasn’t bad enough KC started to snore the snore that woke the ancients. Oh noooo. Please let this ride be over soon.
“Adam where are we?’ I asked over the seat while eyeing Teresa’s extra legroom. I want that leg room bitch. Give it to me or I take it by force. Do you hear me?!!!! But I don’t think she was listening. One, because she was sleeping. And two, I don’t think she’s telepathic.
“Adam you have to pull over I have to pee,” I told him.
“Where? There isn’t anything out here.” He was right, all we both saw was total darkness.
“Oh what’s that?” I said pointing to a large building that was glowing like a beacon calling to me. “Stacy…come to me.”
“I think that’s a hotel,” he said. That’s not just a hotel. That’s a hotel with a bar!
“Pull over there,” I told him acting innocent.
I don’t even think the car made a full stop before I started crawling over the sleeping Garth and making my way to freedom. I’m free! I’m free! I can feel my legs again! I don’t hear snoring! I’ve died and gone to heaven! I ran up the steps of the beautiful wooden hotel and right towards the bar. I ran up to the bar and threw a $20 down.
“I’ll have a Lite beer, a double shot of tequila, and where’s your bathroom?” The bartender looked happy to see me considering it was dead in there and I was the only woman in the bar.
After I came back from the bathroom I sat down on the very nice wooden barstool and sipped my beer. What I didn’t realize was that Garth, KC, Adam, and Teresa were able to see me from the car just sitting there enjoying myself chatting up with the locals. It didn’t take long before Garth and KC decided to mosey on in and sit down on either side of me.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” Garth asked me smiling.
“Why, yes. Yes I am.” I said as I drank my beer.
“Are you planning on getting back into the car anytime soon?
“Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that. I was wondering if we could just go ahead and find a hotel for the night. I’m pretty much done for the day.”
“We’ve all discussed it and we’re just going to drive through the night. We should be in Durango by morning,” Garth informed me.
“I didn’t get to vote?”
“Your vote doesn’t count because you were in here drinking tequila.”
“Oh. In that case, can I have another shot please?” I asked my bartender as I shoved my empty glass in front of him. I drank my shot, downed my beer, and didn’t offer to buy any drinks for the boys. Screw them. I don’t get a vote, they don’t get a drink.
To be continued….