Four For Friday
Once a year on the Friday before Mother's Day I post one of my favorite blind items ever. I do so, because as I explain within it, the events took place Mother's Day weekend. Yes, I know, I know, I should be ashamed for the drunken debauchery instead of taking my mom to Denny's. Well, where do you think I am taking her right now? No, not Denny's. Pancake stackers time again. She wanted to try them. Oh, and Jon Stewart and Mario Batali discussing whether a Whopper would be good in between a double down? The answer is yes. No bun though. Have a great weekend everyone!!!!
Obviously this would have been more relevant if I had posted it a few weeks ago, but hey, if you have learned anything over the past two years of reading this blog, it is that I'm a bit lazy, or busy or both. Can you be lazy and busy? Is it because you are lazy that you are busy? Anyway, at least it's still May so this is still kind of relevant. Plus, it's all you are getting today unless Mischa Barton decides to show herself. If you think only actresses skip out on Cannes and their obligations, then you obviously didn't read about my adventure tracking down a certain director who should have known better as well. If you haven't read it, shame on you, but just click the label, long blind item at the bottom of this, and you shouldn't have to scroll too far down. Give you something to do anyway if you are at work. Sorry if you are. I probably should be as well, but sometimes you just have to say f**k it. If you did read about the director, then you will enjoy this because it also takes place in Europe. People always e-mail and ask how come I don't write more of the longer items, and the answer is simple. I used to all the time. But, inevitably the longer items involve me, and honestly, too many people read the blog now, and it isn't like I haven't told the stories to other people before, so I try and keep them to a minimum. I know you like them, but there are other people to consider as well, and you have to remember, when I tell them at a party I usually name names. No, not in the big ones. The MV's of the world and some of the other deeply intimate ones, are locked up in the mind. The one you are about to read isn't known to very many people because, honestly, the four of us did some things that we are not necessarily proud of, and as a consequence we were not exactly running back home and sharing it to the rest of the world. That being said, enough time has gone by, that if you ask one of the others, or myself, we are not exactly hiding anything. I mean it is being written now isn't it?
Happened about ten years ago. Throw in a year or so on either side just to make you work, but it isn't the most difficult one in the world to figure out. Four people. #1 is me. Hell, it's my blog, I'll be #1 thank you very much. #2 is a singer and so from now on will refer to him as SR just to keep things easier. Great guy. One hit wonder, but it was a hell of a hit, and he has no problems with being a one hit wonder. If you do figure out him, and see who he worked with when he first started, it does open up a bunch of other clues about another person who has contributed to the blog. This singer was riding the high from this #1 song when this little adventure took place. I absolutely, positively guarantee you that each and every person who is reading this blog has heard this song, and hummed along or sung to it. #3 is an actor. Honestly, doesn't do much now. At the time though had a very nice run going on a very hit show. Although he wasn't with her at the time, he was the guy who introduced me to AP, so you have that whole thing going. He had a very recognizable face and still does if you watch reruns. We will call #3 AR for actor. Finally we have #4. #4 is someone none of you know or will know and is only in the story because he was there, and since he was there, it kind of makes sense for him to be mentioned, although he will not be heard from much, and you will soon discover why. We will call him NN for no name. Cute huh?
I had met SR when he was just starting out because he was friends with and working for one of my best friends at the time. Damn that is vague, but it is what it is. He and I had hung out and liked each other, but lived in different cities. If we happened to be in the same city at the same time we hung out and we kept in touch when not. AR and I had just kind of met by chance at some function or other and at the time he was seeing AP, so I might have wanted to meet her more than him, but it turns out that I ended up with two friends which is really nice. After that initial meeting though, we rarely talked or saw each other. Once or twice a year we would run into each other and do the whole we should hang out more often thing, and of course never did.
So fast forward a few years from when I first met AR, and into the present. The present at the time this happened, and not the present as in now, because, well that would be odd. Turns out AR and SR are working together on something and my name comes up. They are drunk and of course invite me, because, hey, I'm a lush and they know I'll bring booze. So, I go over to AR's house where they are drunk out of their minds, and the next thing you know SR is saying he has a five day window free, and AR just finished shooting his show for the year, and everyone knows I won't be missed where I was working at the time. Too true. The fourth came about because we wanted to go eat some chicken and waffles at 3am and so I called the one guy who had less of a life than me and NN came and picked us all up and he somehow got drafted to be the fourth.
SR had to be in London a week from then, and so we decided to hit Europe. For some reason we decided to go to Amsterdam, but it wasn't for the reasons you think. It was actually because the flights to Paris the next day were completely booked. That had been our first choice. Well, turns out all the flights to Amsterdam were booked as well, but we did find four seats to Brussels. One note. This was prior to the extensive use of internet booking. There may have well been seats available, but the yellow pages, 3am, and being drunk does not lead to much checking beyond one or two calls per city.
So, let's catch you up. As far as I go, I had awakened at probably 8am, worked all day, went home, was about to go to sleep when AR and SR called. Got drunk beyond belief with them, and got maybe two hours of sleep before we got on a plane to from Los Angeles to New York. There may have been a brief nap in between the Bloody's, but it wasn't long. Then got on a flight from New York to Brussels and this is where the real fun starts.
While all the other flights may have been booked, this flight was empty. As in ten people in Business Class and another ten in the back. More crew than passengers. Well, AR seeing the situation on one of the trips to the bathroom says this just won't do. Because the flight attendants were all in love with him, he convinced them to let all the passengers fly up in Business, and then proceeded to drink. We all drank. And drank, and drank. By the time the flight landed, all of the beverage carts were empty. Dry. Nothing. There was one family and the rest were men as I remember. Drinking, cards and swearing, oh and lots of smoking. This airline hadn't switched yet and it was like a thick fog of smoke. Amount of sleep? 0
Landed in Brussels and the first thing that is noticed is that at some point SR has managed to throw up all over himself. Wiped it off to some extent, but looking rough and he was being really surly. Going through customs and everyone is just holding up their passports and getting waved through. Then comes SR. Apparently he had taken offense to a kid from the family stepping on his foot and so was swearing loudly. So much for a smooth ride through customs. "Yes, we are with him. Sure, we'll be glad to wait." Somehow we were on our way really quickly. I just remember that what I thought was probably going to be an hour ended up being like five minutes.
Next. To the car rental counter where we waited and waited and waited. SR had brought a flask and was sipping liberally, and swapping it back and forth with NN. AR decides he is the only one who can drive. I got shotgun which would prove to be very fortunate.
At some point during the flight the four of us had agreed that since we were in Europe, and there to have fun, it hardly made any sense to just make the short drive from Brussels to Amsterdam without seeing a bit of the rest of Europe first. So, we decided to see five countries in one day. Belgium-France-Luxembourg-Germany-The Netherlands, and of course to drink in each country.
So we drank. Belgium was easy, because we had already been drinking so we figured we were good on that front. Got to France and found a place to drink and AR kept himself to one glass of wine while the rest of us each had about a bottle, and took two each for the road. Looking back at it now, perhaps bottles were not the best choice. At some point immediately after crossing the border into Luxembourg, NN and SR who were sitting in the back got into some type of disagreement about space, and who was actually responsible for the four cigarette burns in the rear upholstery of the car. Apparently SR said something to offend NN, which caused NN to take an empty wine bottle and strike SR firmly with it across the forehead. Ahh, nothing like blood streaming from a forehead wound to bring the trip to a rest area. In this case a bar parking lot, because we still had to drink. The bartender had some gauze or tape and there was plenty of liquor with which to clean the wound. So, tape applied and filled with liquor we continued. To Germany and beer. Lots of beer. But first a pit stop on the side of the road. Oh, I forgot to say that part of the deal was to avail ourselves of the outdoors for at least one bathroom break per country. Due to the amount of liquids we were consuming, this in fact took on several stops per country. During a break in Germany doing out business, a motorcyclist came down the highway at about 150 mph. We all remarked at how fast he was going. A short time later as we were going at a much reduced rate down the highway, several police cars and an ambulance made their way past us. Where were they going? Well from the wreckage on the side of the road it appears that perhaps the motorcyclist should have slowed down. Honestly don't know what happened to him, but it didn't look good. On that note we headed to a cafe and got some beers for there and for the road and made our way to Amsterdam.
It was fairly late when we got into Amsterdam, but not quite dark because it was May. Good thing too, because Amsterdam isn't the easiest place to navigate. Imagine an inebriated person with barely any sleep in 48 hours looking at a map and telling the driver to turn left at arnghivstaal street and you can see the dilemma. To this day I don't know he we managed to find our hotel.
Check in, go to our rooms and 30 minutes later we are on our way out. First stop, and it turns out the only stop of the night was a club which featured topless female bartenders and an array of other women whose only goal was to have the customers buy really expensive drinks. It's funny, but AR couldn't go anywhere in LA or for that matter anywhere in the US without being recognized, but, except for the flight over had not been recognized once. He was loving the experience. So when we walked in to the bar and noticed an episode of his show from the first season playing on the television we almost bolted. Funny thing was though even though the entire episode was about him, and he was sitting there in the bar, not a soul recognized him. There was jukebox in the place and we had wanted to create a surreal experience by playing a SR song while AR was on the screen, but SR's song wasn't in the jukebox. Neither myself, SR or AR were really interested in the women. Not so much NN who struck up a conversation with one of the women, left about an hour later with her and didn't show up again until we were about to leave Amsterdam. He's still married to the woman. Yes, awww, and all that. What AR and Sr decided would be fun would be to pay for the drinks of two kids from the UK who were pretending to be about 25 and were more than likely about 17. They were mesmerized by the women, but had run out of funds until SR and AR came along. Wanting the kids to feel like hotshots, SR and AR kept giving the kids money in which to buy drinks and soon had six or seven women all over them. They loved it and SR and AR got a kick out of it. For the most part though this was a party that just wasn't going to get started because the three of us had nothing left to give. At about 4am we walked back to the hotel and called it a night, but not before finding an unlocked bar and no workers. Ahhh free booze. It was like we owned the bar. Trusting lot there at the hotel.
Woke up around 2pm and decided that what was in order was a swim in the North Sea. Sounded really good at the time. Two cases of beer and a few hours later we found ourselves jumping in naked into the North Sea. Funny thing about that sea. It was May and the outside temperature was warm. The water? Not so much. It was about a week before I saw my balls because they had disappeared inside my body not to be seen for sometime.
Another case of beer on the way home and it was time to go out. First stop was a coffeehouse, but honestly we didn't buy any pot. It just didn't seem fun right that second. Next stop, was a biker bar. Didn't know it was a biker bar. Didn't know that the bartender was an American and that he would spend the next hour telling us in great detail why the US was so f**ked up, but he did. We were the only people in the bar and figured his people skills might have had something to do with it. We did stay an hour because we honestly couldn't believe what we were hearing.
We decided to forgo the live sex shows, and instead went to another club which was also completely empty. This was a Saturday night at around 11 or 12 and we literally were the only people in there. Didn't matter though. The bartender who was female and Portuguese was married to the owner who was Dutch. In some half assed Spanish and French we taught them how to make a margarita and a kamikaze and were having a great time and getting very drunk. People started streaming in around 1am or so, and pretty soon I felt a hand on my back and then on my neck, and was thinking to myself, "ok!" Turned around and it was a guy. The whole place was filled with guys. Yep. It was a gay bar. Well this particular gay bar was about to have a Karaoke contest and we decided after seeing SR's song on the play list to enter him right into the contest. First prize was like 1,000 Guilders (yes, before the Euro), and we figured SR would be a shoo in. The guy can sing. No backing tracks or anything like that for him. Ummm. He came in 3rd. To be fair, the guy who won was pretty good, but the guy who came in second did so only because he decided to drop trou and seems that was a real crowd pleaser. No one recognized SR although everyone did sing along which he enjoyed.
Next stop was some college type bar where everyone was singing soccer songs and Abba songs. Honestly, I don't think they played anything else. It was packed and hot, and sweaty and AR got recognized by some American tourists who started screaming. This was not part of the plan, and was not what AR wanted since he and SR were in deep discussions with a dealer who said that he could score some coke. Unfortunately AR just couldn't say, "glad you love the show. You know, could you come back in a little while. My buddy and I are trying to get some coke, and you are kind of ruining it for us."
So, outside we went. As we were walking and discussing a deal, we all found ourselves in the red light district. Funny how that happens huh? Well, the friendly drug dealer told us to enjoy ourselves while he went off to get it and would be back before we finished. Well, all I can say is I he would still be waiting today for me because it just wasn't going to happen for Mr. Shy. Nope, 3 days of drinking and a dunking in the North Sea and the thought of wife #3 in the back of my mind kind of ruined it for me. SR and AR apparently had no such issues. Well, they are used to performing, and I'm not. My excuse anyway. Well the dealer showed up, and he did so with a few of his friends. Apparently he decided that since we had so much cash, perhaps we would be willing to give some to he and his friends. Ummm. Run? Well this wasn't the movies, and running wasn't in the cards so we passed along what money we had. Got to avoid a good ass kicking though. See, there's always a positive.
Stumbled back to the hotel, slept for a few hours, and then it was the drive. You know the one I mean. The one where the fun is done and at least for me all you have to look forward to is that damn desk and at the time, a job which was no fun at all. AR didn't have anything to complain about. He was going on vacation and then to film a movie. NN? Well he got himself a wife, and was sticking around for a few days to meet her family. So it was pretty good for him. SR? Well he flew to London for a show and some stitches and AR decided to go with him. Me? I flew back all by myself and probably moved four inches on each of the flights. Really the first and only time I have ever been able to sleep on a plane. Stopped in Chicago on the way home and called my mom from a pay phone to wish her a Happy Mother's Day. Decided to keep the whole hooker, coke, gay bar, four day bender out of the conversation though. Went home and kissed the wife. Decided not to mention the whole coke or hooker thing. Told her about the gay bar and she could smell the 4 day bender. Went to sleep, and the next morning was right back at that awful desk.
