A tale of two Garths. Chapter 41. Let’s get freaky!


*The name of the Soap Star has been changed to protect the not so innocent.

With Garth still out of town roaming the streets of Lord knows where, doing Lord knows what with MY keys, I decided to take a break from myself and my anger for a little while.

“Eddie’s having a party tonight, do you want to go?” I asked Cherokee as we were doing our closing work for our night shift at Stanley’s. We both had the early shifts and considering Stanley’s was dead with a capital D that night, we both got off relatively early.

“Yeah, that sounds like fun,” she said. “I want to go home and change first though.”

“Yeah, me too.” I told her. I gave her a ride home and waited for her to change into something distinctly “Cherokee.” Which was usually something I could never get away with, probably bought from a thrift store, and looked ridiculously amazing on her. It really wasn’t fair that one person could be that stunningly beautiful. After feeling completely hideous next to her, I thought we should at least go by my house so I could try and not look like her help.

Once home I ditched the white shirt and black pants uniform that all the Stanley’s servers wore and opted for a tight striped brown t-shirt that showed a hint of my midriff, some jeans, and a pair of all star black converse. I didn’t exude sex so to speak, but definitely had the surfer chick look down and I wore it well. Once we decided we were presentable we climbed back into the Volvo for the shaky, no radio drive over to the party.

Once we arrived at Eddie’s house I was taken aback by the lack of parking.

“How many people did he invite?” I asked as I circled his street like one would circle a parking lot. Coming up empty with every pass, I finally gave up and parked a couple of streets over. Cherokee and I were just going to have to hoof it to the party. All of a sudden I was loving my choice of footwear. The closer we got to the house the louder the music and conversations got.

Eddie was one of the lucky ones. He had gotten out of Stanley’s. Stanley’s seemed to have some sort of weird curse over it. It was as if once you started working there you were sucked into a vortex that would never let you leave. I would hear tales of others who had escaped its evil clutches; I always thought they were just urban legends to keep the servers from staging some sort of revolt. But once Eddie started working as an actor on a regular basis, I realized the legends were true, and I had a reason to cling to that tiny ounce of hope I had left in my body that I would not be there for the rest of my life.

Cherokee and I got to the house and walked inside and stood in the hallway for a second looking around at the party and then at each other. The party was a virtual who’s who of young Hollywood.

“Is that the lead singer of the Counting Crows?” I asked Cherokee as I watched woman after woman walk by me in clothes I couldn’t even afford to look at, let alone touch. That’s when I decided that I didn’t like my choice of footwear. As a matter of fact I didn’t like my entire outfit.

“Yeah…that’s him,” she said.

“We should probably start drinking,” I suggested. She nodded. Cherokee was always a great wingman. As Cherokee and I wove our unknown asses through the party towards the bar we kept coming face to face with one actor after another. After we got ourselves some strong cocktails we just sort of stood in the middle of the living room smiling at one another pretending like we knew what we were doing. We both felt so stupid and out of place we couldn’t help but laugh. And that was all it took. Cherokee has one of the most contagious laughs I have ever heard and once she got going I couldn’t help but laugh myself.

As we stood there laughing at ourselves, a very well known, very handsome, and very drunk soap opera star crawled out of nowhere on his hands and knees and licked my navel ring. Wow! He really is Young and Restless!

“Hello there Paul,” I said, as Cherokee doubled over in hysterics.

“Cherokee, don’t be rude to our friend,” I said to her with a smile. “So Paul, how are we doing tonight?”

“I’m great!” he said overly enthusiastic. And I believed him. As a matter of fact I had never seen him so great before. Paul was a Stanley’s regular and a relatively harmless one at that. He was a flirt but nothing inappropriate. Well except for the time I wore a rather short black skirt to work and he asked me if I had celeulite anywhere on my body. I thought that was a little personal, but other than that I would have to say he was one of Stanley’s more fun regulars. After Paul was done cleaning the lint out of my bellybutton he worked his way over to Cherokee. Being as she didn’t have her navel exposed she was not subjected to the same welcome I had received. And then just as quickly as he had appeared he vanished once again. All we could see was the back of him dancing his way into the living room to mingle amongst the beautiful people.

“I have no idea what just happened,” I said to Cherokee while wiping saliva off my stomach.

“Are you sure we’re at the right party?” she asked laughing so hard she could barely speak.

“I know this is Eddie’s house but I still haven’t seen Eddie,” I said as I stood up on my toes and strained my neck trying to get a birds eye view.

“There he is! He’s in the kitchen with Reese Witherspoon? What?”

“No, that’s not Reese Witherspoon. That’s Alicia Silverstone.” Cherokee corrected me.

“I don’t think so. That’s TOTALLY Reese Witherspoon!”

“No Stacy, look at her. That’s Alicia Silverstone.”

“Does it matter?” I asked her. This was ridiculous.

Before long Eddie made his way around the party and Cherokee and I were able to grab him to say hi and give him a hug.

“I’m so glad you guys came,” he said.

“Thanks for inviting us. I had no idea it was going to be this big,” I said loudly trying to be heard over the music.

“Neither did I,” he replied. And the more we talked the more the house seemed to fill up with people. Before long it was wall to wall of some of the most genetically attractive people I had ever seen.

“I can’t take it anymore,” I said to myself.
“What?” Eddie asked me.

“Everyone is so good looking,” I yelled. And that’s when I realized; most of the women in this room are my direct competition for parts. In the span of about two seconds the party became incredibly depressing. The reality of working in Hollywood was not only staring me in the face, they were partying at MY friend’s house. First my keys and now my friend. I was starting to lose the things I held dear to me.

“I’m going to go get another drink,” I told Eddie and Cherokee and I started shoving skinny, pretty bitches out of my way while doing my best to step on their over priced shoes. I had to snap out of it. I just had to. Why was I feeling sorry for myself? Was it because they could afford better clothes? They drove better cars? They actually had the keys to their cars? I was being irrational. I had thicker skin then this.

By the time I found Cherokee again she was in the living room frozen like a statue with her mouth hanging open.

“What’s wrong?” I asked as I approached her. All she could do was point to what was causing her to lose all her ability to speak. I turned my head just in time to see Paul standing up against the fireplace with both hands firmly placed on the wall and legs splayed, gyrating like Tawny Kitaen on a Jaguar. The only thing that was missing was David Coverdale and a smoke machine. That’s when my mouth dropped open and I too lost all ability to form words or sentences. He is not doing that, was all I could think.  But before I could call 911 and report assault with a deadly pair of Levis he was on the floor crawling over to Cherokee moving like a cat in heat.

“Oh. My. God!” was all I could say. I was doing everything in my power not to fall over from laughter.

“He is so drunk,” Cherokee whispered to me.

“You think?” But we weren’t the only audience Paul had; a good portion of the party had stopped what they were doing to watch Paul try and seduce Cherokee. Oh Paul. I have seen many a man try and I have seen many a man fail my friend. Save your seductive dance for a lesser opponent. But he did not hear my pleas. He just kept on coming.

“I’m out of here,” I told her as I backed up and followed a number of people running for cover.

“Stacy, you better get back here!” was all I heard as I turned the corner towards the kitchen. Wow. Man that was awkward.

“Hi,” a really cute guy said to me as I stood there laughing to myself. I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me so I turned around to look behind me.

“Hey,” I said back feeling the liquid courage coursing through my veins.

“What’s your name?” he said smiling and trying to eye fuck me.

“Stacy,” I said back. Looking back at him with a gaze that said, “Not a chance there buddy.”

“I can’t believe you ditched me!” Cherokee came around the corner interrupting the eye conversation I was having with the young buck.

“I’m sorry,” I said in hysterics. “It was just so funny. I had to leave!”

“He asked me to go home with him.”

“No!”

“Yes.”

“Weeellllll? I mean aside from the cat thing he is pretty damn good looking,” I said to her.

“No,” she said back obviously not amused. At that point in the evening we had both seen and done enough. It was time for us both to go back home. ALONE. So we could stare at our walls wondering why we weren’t being swept off our feet like we both so deserved. She was looking for Prince Charming wrapped up in tattoos and foot rubs. And I was hanging on to a dream that the Garth I had fallen in love with would come back to me. Physically, mentally, and spiritually.

To be continued.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: