In celebration of my birthday, I decided to host a party. In truth, my friend Scott Webster, who is always up for a good time, decided to throw me a party. His friend Rachel Elizabeth recently purchased a house and was looking for an excuse to toss a soiree. Me? Mostly I want to be left alone, but with BET’s ReMixed ending its first season and a few dollars in the bank, I did feel like celebrating. So why not? A boy only turns thirty for the hundredth time, a hundred times.
Since I did not know Rachel well, other than styling her video for Rachel’s Angels, I called her inquiring what to expect and if she needed anything from me? Rachel was very cool. “Do you need any cash,” I asked? “No, it’s your birthday,” Rachel replied. “Good answer,” I thought. “Well, if anything comes up, let me know,” I replied. We decided on a date, and an Evite was created. Hosting a party is nerve-wracking enough without wondering if anyone is coming. Never have a party on the weekend of Thanksgiving. No one is in town. I was shocked at how many people declined my invite because they were going home for Thanksgiving. I never do as it’s so close to Christmas. Why put yourself through the trauma twice!?
The party was in Rachel’s backyard. Scott and I, stripper connoisseurs, wanted go-go dancers. Rachel was down with that, and the three of us decided we must have strippers! The hunt begins. Scott, who casts for Cinemax, HBO, and Playboy, knows lots of dancers. I’ve assisted him on some of these jobs, and I like it. There is one particular stripper at a bar in West Hollywood that makes me crazy. He was so cute and has the cutest butt. I had the hugest crush on him. But how do you ask out a dancer at a bar? He simply had to dance at my birthday party! As fate would have it, as I left an audition for a car commercial (ironic since I don’t know how to drive), there walking down Vine is my crush, in broad daylight. Clothed. I’d know him anywhere. “Turn around,” I say to my assistant, Sarah, who is driving. “I gotta talk to that guy.” In mid-traffic, Sarah whips the car around and screams, “Hey, we need to talk to you!” I love Sarah. “What,” says the cutie, whose name it turns out is Zac. When you look like he does, I suppose you become accustomed to people screaming at you from cars. I bound out of the car, waving my business card. “I’ve seen you dance at Micky’s. I’m a huge fan of your work,” I say with a smile. “I’m having a party on Friday. Are you working? If not, I’d love it if you’d dance at my party”, I say, handing him my business card. “Sure, but let me check my schedule,” says the handsome Australian Zac. When he smiles, I all but faint.
The day of the party arrives, and Scott and I run to Smart & Final for alcohol. We then head to Ralph’s to get a birthday cake. “Don’t tell anyone the cake is from Ralph’s,” I warn Scott. I’ll tell people that night it’s from Bluebird Bakery in Culver City. I’ve ordered three heaters, so the two male and two female dancers will be warm as they dance. Scott has found me an adorable shirtless bartender. The bartender, however, isn’t shirtless when the party starts. It turns out he’s an out-of-work actor who is only bartending until his big break. Well, honey, you were hired for the size of your pecs and biceps, so lose the shirt and start slinging drinks. We actually have a bit of back and forth because he’s appalled he has to cut his own lemons and limes! “You’re the bartender,” I say, having bartended and waited tables in the past. “I’m the helper,” he replies. “You’re being paid. If you’re helping, you don’t get paid at the end of the night,” I reply. At this point, Scott, who is friends with the bartender, steps in and makes a joke, to which I reply, “The problem with hiring friends is they wanna act like you are peers. He needs to be shirtless and not so mouthy.” I know how he feels. I’ve been there before, and knowing myself, shall probably be there again. The doorbell rings and people are arriving. That bad “nobody is coming” feeling is avoided!
To make a long story short, the dancers and deejay arrived, and the bartender took off his shirt. So many people showed up. I danced badly. Rachel hired two comics who sucked and almost ruined the party. The neighbors called the police, who Rachel charmed. Michael from Big Brother season six gave me a mouse, which I gave Zac, the dancer. Bill Maher, Judd Nelson, and Kid from Kid and Play came and were all very nice. How random was that? I left when people started getting naked in the jacuzzi.
It was another crazy night in Hollywood, and all had a good time.