So here I am, in Los Angeles. At the Mondrian. I never planned to be here, and was never certain of staying here for two nights, but what the hell… We started the evening at the wonderful Sunset Marquis, in their garden area (by garden area I mean concreted nuclear bunker) sipping gimlets and shooting the breeze.
By shooting the breeze I mean terrifying each other to the point of ‘loss of bodily functions’ about our favourite scary movies. I know I’m 33, but when your friend tells you the story of her TV cutting out during a showing of the Shining only to discover her 10 friends had hidden in her closet (and boy do I know what that feels like) and had played a prank.
From there it went to the obligatory Alli Moment discussion, and those of you who know, know – needless to say a story about not knowing and and over-excited small animal was shared with great mirth.
Speaking of mirth (which is a place outside of Jersey City) we were greeted by a man of some considerable age (he’s 35 and yet looks all of 12) who I used to work with.
There’s something funny about drinking whilst talking with a good friend. And that thing, which is funny between you – but simply irritating to others, is the ability to believe you are sober when in fact you’re one step away from a full Lohan. And indeed we were. After greeting Simon (that’s his name) and talking briefly about why I was in LA the gem of a conversational meme was presented to us. He said ’so why are you here’ and I replied “Rachael and I are here for a couple of days staying with her family who I’ve just met’. To which he replied (being the second gayest man on the planet) ‘Oh, and are you still with Ben’. Clearly, HE thought that I’d had an ‘epiphany moment’ and was with Rachael. In fact, I’d eaten so much that day it looked more like I was with child.
He left and returned to his side of the bunker where he was greeted by Ant and Dec. To the Americans amongst us I am not referring to an insect and some garden flooring. I refer to the famous selabrities from British TV who were launching their career here.
Clearly I ignored them.
1 hour later, when Rachael and I had succesfully grabbed the most expensive room available at the Mondrian just because we were hungry and like room service, it was time to depart.
We trolled over to the boys and what occurred was an act of some conversational beauty. Frankly I said hello to everyone, shook hands like shaking salad and proceeded to ignore everyone. Rachael, on the other hand was deep in conversation with Dec (to whom she said to me later – ‘which one was the famous one’ – those Brit celebrities really wear it well) about the luxury amenties of the Wynn resort.
It was no win for Rachael when she finished her paragraph and turned to me to escort us off the premises to discover that I was a good 30 feet away walking out the door whilst stating ‘I’m gone’.
And indeed we were.
