Los Angeles: Part 2 - Daisy

I arrive at the airport around noon on Friday.

Having slept the whole flight, I was somewhat refreshed and ready to check out LA. I was still very excited about the whole idea of being there and somewhat nervous as to how this whole thing was going to play out.

I called her to let her know I arrived and she told me she was just getting to the airport. I told her I would meet her at the passenger pick up curb.

In the short amount of time I had before she picked me up, I went through the “what’s the coolest way to be” exercise. This is typical of me as I never fully embraced my usual self as being cool enough. So, with that said, while standing at the curb I went through the usual set of questions…

“Jacket on or off? If off, slung over my shoulder or draped over my bag?” Well it was LA and it was a little warm, but my leather jacket was very thin and very stylish, so maybe keeping it on would be cooler. I tried the different options, and after looking around and seeing people with their jackets on in the very phony LA, I decided I would keep it on. Plus my excuse was that I came from New York and it was freezing over there.

“Sunglasses on or off?” That was easy, they were cool designer sunglasses and the sun was beaming, so sunglasses stayed on.

“How should I stand? Leaning against a post? Sitting against a rail? Maybe sitting on the curb? Perhaps sitting on my bag?” I tried all the different options… and leaning against a post seemed to work the best, plus I could smoke a cigarette and look even a little bit cooler. Yes, in my mind I was James Dean, but whatever, let me be, I was in LA, that’s what you do there, you pretend to be something you’re not. Don’t judge. When people ask me why I started smoking, I always answer “because it’s cool.” I’m not going to delude myself into thinking that I started because I had this desire to fill my lungs with refreshing good-for-you smoke and because my nerves were shot when I was a kid. It was simply cool. Still is. I’m not really a smoker though, as I only smoke in social occasions and typically with a drink in hand. If I meet a chick that doesn’t smoke, then neither do I. The end. I digress.

So as I was standing up against a post with my jacket on, sunglasses on, and a cigarette in hand, she pulled up. Sitting in the passenger seat was one of her friends. She waves me over into the car and I jump in back.

Daisy: “HEEEEEEY!”

This Guy: “YO YO YOOOO! What’s up Dais?!”

I lean over and give her a kiss on the cheek.

Daisy: “Guy, this is my friend Sandra, Sandra this is guy.”

Sandra: “Nas to meetchoo darlin.”

Sandra had THE ONLY southern accent.

This guy: “The pleasure is all mine. Where’s the accent from Sandra?”

Sandra: “Tampa.”

Daisy: “This Guy used to live down there.”

This guy: “Yeah, I used to live in Orlando. I have a bunch of friends from around there.”

Sandra: “Ah kanda miss it. Ah love the sun.”

This guy: “How long have you been gone?”

Sandra: “1 week.”

Oh boy. Another drama queen. 1 week and she’s already missing the place. Sandra was about 5’5”, blond, slender with a teeny little pot belly, a tattoo on her back and one on her arm. Beautiful eyes and a very pretty face. Smoked like she was from the south. I knew she had a story to tell, I decided I would coax it out of her later.

This guy: “So are you here for Daisy’s party?”

Sandra: “No I actually moved here.”

This guy: “Actress?”

Sandra: “Yup.”

No, I’m not psychic.

This guy: “Have you acted in anything?”

Sandra: “Ah was on “Days of Our Lives” when I lived in New York. It was a small role, but it was fab.”

This guy: “Why’d you leave New York?”

Sandra: “It’s just too busy there. Ah need mah space. Ah drav a big ol truck, ah lahk open space. It was fab, but it just wasn’t for me.”

One week and she was already “Fab’ing”. She was adapting to the valley girl thing rather quickly.

This guy: “I can dig it. So Dais, what’s the plan for this afternoon?”

Daisy: “Well I have to go pick up some balloons and some more party decorations for the party tomorrow and I have to pick up some food and wine for tonight. I hope you don’t mind. I know you just got here and I already have you running errands.”

This Guy: “It’s cool man, I’m just happy to be here, I still can’t believe I’m here.”

Daisy: “It’s great isn’t it?”

This Guy: “It’s crazy.”

After a couple of hours riding around in an estrogen filled car listening to country music and 2 girls that knew all the lyrics to every mind numbing country tune, I realized that I was the poorest person in the car. Daisy being an inheritance baby and Sandra as well made for a very interesting dialogue between the 3 of us. Sandra’s family sold huge plots of land to a major amusement park and became incredibly wealthy. She was new money. Daisy’s ancestors were huge media tycoons and her money’s been trickling down the blood line for decades. She was old money. Me? I came from a family that worked their ass off to make a good living and I followed in their footsteps, I was earned money. So when we pulled up to the organic food market, I wasn’t surprised.

Daisy: “We need lemons. 3 of them.” She said looking over her shopping list.

Sandra: “They’re raht over there sweety. Ah’ll git’em.”

Daisy: “Make sure they say Organic on them, sometimes they have regular ones in there.”

This Guy: “How can you tell?”

Daisy: “They don’t have the sticker on them.”

This Guy: “What if the sticker fell off?”

Daisy: “Well I just don’t want to chance it.”

This Guy: “Do they taste different?”

Daisy: “Well they are supposed to taste better, but I can’t tell the difference. I just like getting organic ones because they are healthier for you.”

This Guy: “Do you eat them raw Dais?”

Daisy: “No of course not.”

This Guy: “So you think a little lemon zest that isn’t organic is enough to make you less healthy?”

Sandra: “Ah’m with you on this one. Ah could cay’r less. Just buy the fuckin thangs and git over it. WTF?” she said laughing with her rock-n-roll southern redneck drawl.

WTF stands for “what the fuck.” Valley girls can’t pronounce very well, so they use acronyms. Southern girls copy valley girls apparently. Sandra was victem to the latter.

Daisy: “Ok, well I’m not having this conversation; just buy the organic ones, will ya?”

This Guy: “No doubt, just wondering what goes on in your head. We’ll get the fruits, you get the meats.”

Daisy: “Ok.”

With that Sandra and I went off to the fruit section and began looking for organic fruits. She and I were joking the whole time about the ridiculousness of organic food. We picked up our fruits and met back up with Daisy. She seemed to be struggling at the meat section. Daisy will take forever if you let her make a decision on her own because she weighs every deciding factor equally. She will stare at a label for hours comparing the nutrients, fats, calories, and sugars. She will find out where it was grown or made and if child labor was involved. She will take the region and question if the weather conditions were right for growing. She will ask someone their opinion to see which tastes better. She will flip a coin 42 times to see what god thinks. I mean this girl is obsessive when it comes to decisions. We had to help her or we would never leave.

Daisy: “Ok, we have free roaming chicken, we got free roaming organic beef, and we got regular chicken and regular beef. The butcher says the regular chicken and beef look a little better, but its not organic or free roaming. What should we get? ”

This Guy: “Get some free roaming chicken, and get some free roaming beef, what’s the big deal? That’s what you believe in right? Free roaming animals?”

Daisy: “But this isn’t for me and I also want it to taste good.”

I didn’t question her logic, although in retrospect, I should have.

This Guy: “It’s a barbeque; it’ll all taste the same.”

Sandra: “Mah uncle, gawd I love him, he kin cook the shit out of some chicken on the bah-bee-que.”

That was Sandra’s way of contributing. I still don’t get it. How did that help at all?

Daisy: “Alright fine but we should just pick either chicken or beef. A lot of my friends are vegetarians so I don’t want to get different meat because I don’t want to offend them.”

This Guy: “Would they get offended?”

Daisy: “I don’t know, but I don’t want to throw it in their faces that we are eating 2 different types of animals. I don’t want to push it. Let’s just get what we need.”

This Guy: “Go with the beef filet roast and for the vegetarians get some veggie burgers.”

Daisy: “What do you think Sandra?”

Sandra: “I don’t care I’m a vegetarian.”

This Guy: “Et tu Brute?” I asked in disbelief?

Here I thought we were on the same page by joking about organic food and it turns out she’s as confused as the rest. What about that chicken her uncle could cook the shit out of? She clearly loves it. I just wish she wouldn’t lie to herself.

Sandra: “But it’s not like I get offended. I just don’t eat it because I don’t like the taste of it.”

That’s what I was waiting for. Actresses say that when they don’t want to admit they are starving themselves to land a role.

This Guy: “Just buy the filet.”

Daisy: “Fine, but how much is enough?”

She began counting carnivorous friends when she was interrupted.

Sandra: “Oh hell, buy the whole damn roast. Who cayrs? It’s only 70 dollars honey, Ah’ll pay for it. If they don’t eat it tonight, Guy’ll eat it tamarra. Raht Guy?”

This Guy: “I’m a foodatarian.”

Now what you saw in this whole exchange was a little bit of the dynamic between the 3 of us. Daisy’s old money ways had her eating the finest ingredients and wanting to please all her guests when she entertained. Money was no object and she would never talk about price. Only the best for her guests. Sandra’s new money had her buying the whole dang $70 fillet roast because it was only 70 dollars and she clearly had the money. Everyone should know that a 70 dollar roast is nothing to this out of work actress. My earned money had me eating anything that was left over. The 3 of us together was a big social experiment. This was the way it would be for the rest of my time there in LA. I got used to it.

After we wrapped up our errands, we ended up at Daisy’s place. The food was put away, we were all pretty tired. It was getting late. We were going to try to hit a club where one of Sandra’s friends was hosting an industry party but we were beat. We all agreed we would just stay home, have some drinks and play trivial pursuit.

Sitting around the table was Sandra, Daisy, myself, and a couple. We had 2 bottles of wine for all of us. We started playing and the game was going smoothly. It was a laid back night; we were having fun, and drinking wine. By the end of the first bottle however, I realized that it wouldn’t be enough. We called a booze delivery service and ordered 4 bottles of red wine. That should be enough for us.

The booze took a while to arrive, but by the time it did, the other bottle was gone, a few random beers were gone, and the couple had left. Sandra wasn’t drinking.

This Guy: “So why aren’t you drinking Sandra, it’s Friday?”

Sandra: “Ah don’t drink.”

This Guy: “Why’s that?”

Sandra: “Well it’s not that ah neva did. Ah just drank too much when ah was younger. I was in rehab for 6 months.”

I knew there was more to her. I knew she had a story, they all do.

This Guy: “Well then I won’t tell you how amazing this wine is.”

Sandra: “Thanks darlin.”

Daisy: “This wine is pretty good.”

This Guy: “It’s fucking great, but we won’t tell Sandra that.”

Daisy and I were definitely buzzed.

Sandra: “Alraht guys, I kin hear ya.”

Daisy: “I want more can you top me up?”

This Guy: “Sure thing.”

I filled both of our glasses.

This Guy: “So when did you realize it was a problem for you Sandra? And how old are you again?”

Sandra: “When ah was gittin into trouble. I'm 23. It runs in mah family, ah figured I’d nip it in the bud.”

This Guy: “You know what runs in my family?”

Sandra: “What?”

Daisy: “Assholiness?”

She couldn't resist.

This Guy: “That’s not fair you had insider info. This was Sandra’s triva question.”

Sandra: “Honey, ahm sorry but I can’t see you for an asshole.”

This Guy: “Make no apologies; I take that as a compliment. Your friend Daisy over here is completely out of line.”

Daisy: “Oh I was out of line? You were a prick sometimes. You know what you did.” She said referring to a problem she had with me being friends with my ex’s.

This Guy: “If I did what you wanted me to do, I wouldn’t be here now would I?”

Daisy: “True, let’s drink to that.”

This Guy: “Lets.”

Sandra: “Why did you 2 break up?”

This Guy: “A little of this a little of that. Details, details… can I get my trivia question please.” I was waiting to earn my brown trivial pursuit wedge.

Daisy: “He’s too much of a good guy to his friends and ex’s and not enough of a good guy to his girlfriend.

This Guy: “Low blow. The real answer is that Daisy is a jealous mess.”

Daisy: “But I’m not anymore.”

This Guy: “You’re welcome. Let’s drink to that.”

Daisy: “Lets.”

Sandra: “Alright, ya’ll are bein retarded. Ahm tired, ahm goin to bed.”

With that, it was just me and Daisy left. It was 1AM. There were still 4 bottle of wine. Neither of us was ready for bed. Neither of us was drunk enough. We pressed on.

Daisy and I played and drank till 5 in the morning. We killed every one of those bottles. We were thoroughly drunk. At some point in the night Daisy had made her Jekyll and Hyde switch because she was being a little meaner and she had that look in her eyes. That evil “life did me dirty” look. I was aware of it, but I was drunk too, so I didn’t care. If I was sober, I probably would have been terrified. She is a monster when she is that drunk… but she also turns into a porn star. Who am I to judge?

I was finally ready for bed. I had the slow blink going on, I was way drunk and the sun was starting to come up. I made my way into Daisy’s room, and plopped face down, fully clothed on her mattress. Eyes closed… I fell out…

A few minutes later Daisy opens the door to her room. She had changed into this red full body long-john suit with the panel in the butt so that you can pee in the middle of the night. She looked very homely. She was making a lot of noise. So much noise in fact that I woke up.

“Did I wake you?”

“A little bit.”

“Oh sorry. Are you going to sleep in all your clothes?”

“Um… no. I was just resting my eyes, I’m going to change.”

“So change then.”

“I will.” I said with ZERO intention.

She crawls into bed and gets up next to me. She puts her arm around me and my eyes close. I fall out again.

I woke what I am assuming was a couple of hours later. She had her hand firmly on my junk and my little man was apparently ready for business. She was asleep and she was molesting me. I entertained the idea of getting it on, but I was just so fuckin tired. I turned over and in doing so; she lost her grip on my manhood. She stayed asleep. I fell out again.

An hour or so later, I woke again. Only this time I was the one doing the molesting. My hand was in her homely red jump suit planted squarely on her boob. I gently slipped it out from under her jump suit and went back to sleep.

God knows how long after that, I woke again to her spooning me from behind and giving me the old reach around. If we weren’t as tired as we were, we probably would have ended up revisiting old playgrounds, but tiredness won. I fell back to sleep.

I let God win this one because it was the first night. I was tired. I really didn’t care to prove anything and she didn’t exactly look hot in that stupid jump suit. I figured the night of the big party would be a better bet. Plus I still had 2 days with her, it could have gotten awkward. If I waiting till Saturday night, I would get some, wake up the next day and jump on a plane. That seemed like the move. That was the ace up my sleeve.

We both woke up in the afternoon after her alarm clock went off. Daisy sets an afternoon alarm clock because she often has late nights and she doesnt want to waste the day. I looked at her, I smirked and i asked her how she slept. She looked at me, she looked under the covers, then quickly back at me. She was completely nude. I attempted to look under the covers, i caught a 2 millisecond glimpse before she sealed herself in the bedsheets.

Daisy: “Did we…?”

This Guy: “Um… no. We didn’t.” I said a little puzzled.

Daisy: “Shoot.” she replied with a "then how the hell did i wake up nude?" expression on her face.

This Guy: “Well, there’s always tonight.”

Daisy: “There is ALWAYS tonight." she laughed. "Let’s get breakfast.”

We both didn’t “remember” anything. Convenient.

With that I got up and made my way to the kitchen while she put some clothes on. I really didn't remember any point in the night that she would have disrobed or that i would have disrobed her. But people do funny things when they are drunk and asleep.

The day was to be spent decorating and prepping the apartment for that night. She had to run some more errands and I decided I would meet up with an old friend of mine that happened to live in LA. I had this over confident demeanor. I felt good. I knew that night was going to be something different. There was one small problem… I was starting to dig Daisy’s friend Sandra. Her and I seemed to always end up talking together, laughing together, and relating to each other. She reminded me an aweful lot of another one of my ex's whome i adore and to this day is my best friend. What's this all about?

Stay tuned… It only gets better. It involves Daisy. It involves Sandra. It involves an industry party. It involves a mess load of people and a lot of booze. I undoubtedly find a way to get into trouble… God and I square off… see who wins…