Hollywood Moment

So, since I am a glutton for punishment, I have been subscribing to the twitter feed of the person who I previously mentioned had introduced himself to me via myspace, blah-dee-blah, as we did actually meet, one night; one very late night, and he actually was in my apartment, the spectre of random celebrity entertainment gracing my space.

(Do you ever have those moments where you mentally take a snapshot, knowing the image is something you will keep in your mind for a very long time, because you don’t really believe it? In fact, wishing you had a pair of those spectacle camera spyglasses, so an actual snapshot could have been taken? Where was my cell phone that night?)

Anyway, so since that evening, I have actually taken the time to get to know him a bit better, from a distance. See, I had no idea who he was until he introduced himself. I was no fan of his, never having heard of him or his band before. His twitter feed is quite sufficient for getting to know him, as all his responses to messages are there for all to see, including when they reference oneself. Tonight, he is hosting a musical event, with himself and his friends performing. He has been tweeting up a storm for the last few days, in preparation of the event. That, and getting a puppy, has him tweeting volumes, with pictures.

I could have gone to the show. (I still could, as it has not yet started.) He even asked his followers who wanted to be on the guest list? But I didn’t buy a ticket. I didn’t ask to get on the guest list. I decided I didn’t want to go, and possibly see him, and possibly be ignored. Not great for the self esteem.  Especially considering my track record so far this year with regards to men.

I thought we were done, the one night we saw one another, an exchange of emails afterwards, then no response later, done. In fact, I was under the impression I managed to piss him off. Fine. Moving on.

And then, earlier this week, he attempted to contact me again. I responded, apologizing I hadn’t gotten his message until hours later, then stated my demands, and nothing further. He got the puppy shortly thereafter. He started stressing about the show then too, so I figured he has been extremely busy with other things, and nothing further will probably occur. So I tell myself. Time will tell.

But despite all that being a Hollywood story completely in its own right, the actual Hollywood moment occurred today. He was mentioning yesterday actual paperwork for the show needing to be done (?), and today the fact that he woke up and already had 50 messages on his phone and needed to get through them all, but hadn’t slept but would like to and how much he really needed an assistant. Or at least a girlfriend.

Now, if I were a truly opportunistic, self-promoting individual like all who succeed in Hollywood must be, I would have quickly responded and offered my services. As I am a damn good assistant, able to anticipate my boss’s needs and getting it done before asked. And I need a job.

I really thought hard about whether to do it or not. I easily could have called him. I thought about my plans for the rest of the day, because if accepted, it would mean I would need to start immediately, to best sell myself as being up to the task. And what I decided was I needed to get out of the house, didn’t want to take a shower and make myself look as pretty as I would need to be to go hang out in a club in Hollywood tonight, (and possibly be looking after a puppy) and went shopping instead.

Sipping a mocha from Dazbog, a Russian coffee place, I thought: Was I wrong? I kept thinking about it while shopping in Burbank. At BevMo, I bought Coca-Cola made with sugar cane from Mexico to see what the taste difference from regular corn syrup Coke was, and picked up a bottle of absinthe with wormwood, following the original recipe. Should I have at least attempted to rise to the obviously stated need? I bought cleaning supplies, stockings and an address book at Target. I could direct response him on twitter, I kept thinking, fingering my cell phone with that capability. As I placed a pair of oven mitts to replace the recently burnt one into my car, along with a bookcase and power strips from Ikea, I continued contemplating. Imagine I had and he had accepted, I thought, as I drove towards Hollywood, where he would be performing in mere hours. I was looking at acoustic basses, something I had seen for the first time while watching a show about Silversun Pickups, as the bassist had performed at the local radio station with an acoustic bass, with what I thought was a cheap brand name obviously prominent. Cool! Cheap being the operative word. But as I looked, no one carried it. I wonder where she got it? It certainly wasn’t at Sam Ash or Guitar Center on Sunset.

And as I ate my dinner in a cafe on the stretch of Santa Monica Boulevard known as Theatre Row, I continued to torture myself by reading his tweets. Well, it would appear no assistant had materialized, or none was mentioned, so perhaps I should still offer my services. What’s the worst that can happen? I get ignored. I get taken up on my offer. I get a job. I think I shall sleep on it before I do anything rash. As the show has just begun, I don’t think offering my services now would be opportune.

Because the truth of the matter is, the more I have bothered to find out about him, the more respect I have for him as a working artist. He is in the studio working on his songs or songs he is writing for others, every day. And he may have the rock and roll lifestyle at night, but only after working hours in the studio (and tweeting about it) while sipping on lattes and frappacinos and mochas and shopping at Whole Foods and cooking for himself and taking to the treadmill daily. He mentions walking as a choice. We actually have more in common than I ever would have guessed, in terms of lifestyle choices. All the better match of someone for an assistant to assist!

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