Weekend of Madness...

With my creative energies completely shut down for the holidays. I’ve become Mr. Party Animal. The kids still like that Spuds MacKenzie, right? Here’s the skinny...

Party #1: Loft somewhere in Downtown LA

It’s Friday night at 10:30 and I’m totally kicked back on the couch watching “Buffy” episodes I borrowed from a girl at work. The roomy, Alex, mentions a party downtown at a place called the “Loft.” This is not a bar apparently, but an apartment in one of those old warehouse buildings. He tells me the whole crew will be there, including Jason and Sydnee, Gary and Michael et al. Later there will be strippers. Impromptu departure for a party at 10:30pm? Why not? I’m already wearing #1 of my two $15 new shirts.

I drive to the party separately from Alex because well... this is LA. Why would we share? But I get there and make two circles around the place. It’s a BAD area of town. Bad in that creepy-abandoned-by-society way. There is no parking that I can see, but literally thirty (I kid you not!) junkies lining the street. I tuck tail and go home.

I call Alex just to let him know I’m not gonna be there (halfway figuring plans changed anyway). He laughs that I should have come on. “Dude, you should have parked at the Greyhound bus station across the street.” Alex proceeds to pass the phone around... Jason, Scott, Gary, Miguel, everyone’s having a blast and giving me hell for not being there. What else could I do?... but get back in the car.

With a strategically planned street crossing, I only get hassled by one junkie. Not bad. Then I’m in. Indeed, the place is one of those super cool, wide-open loft spaces for artists. There was dancing and a LOT of beautiful girls, but all my friends were on the roof, so that’s where I headed.

From the rooftop perch, the lights of the downtown skyline hovered over us, shrouded in a damp mist. To the south, nothing but warehouses, knitted together by a web of railroad tracks. Eerily empty streets. A barren industrial cityscape.

Good friends and frolic... surrounded by this strange, abandoned Los Angeles. This was a surreal night that will be carved in my memory forever. No strippers. Alex either made that up, or they saw the junkies and retreated, like me.

I hit the bed a little after 5am.


Saturday (last night), my friend Kelly and I have several party invites between us, and rather than choose, we opt to hit them all. $15 shirt number two and I’m lookin’ spiffy!


Party #2: Joanne’s house in Glendale hills

I worked with Joanne on a show called “Empty Next” back in 1992. Back then, Joanne and her husband Mike had just started their lives together, bought this house and were trying to start a family. Before the family part could happen, Mike died in a car accident while going to work one morning. I had not seen Joanne since hearing this news. Joanne served lasagna, salad, and apple martinis. In the two hours we were there, I think Mike’s name was mentioned probably eight times. I was pleased to see that Joanne has a nice network of friends to support her moving on.

Met a girl named Meredith who coaches actors. Meredith took issue with my calling myself a "struggling writer." She had a point in a think-therefore-I-am way, but I called b.s. Still, she was smart. And a talker.


Party #3: Renaissance Hotel in Hollywood

Kelly’s other invite was from a place called New Wave Entertainment, which was having a HUGE Christmas party. Wow! Looks like somebody needed a big December tax write off! Tons of gorgeous people, free booze, free catered food, dancing and gambling for raffle tix. We both wished we’d not stuffed ourselves so full at Joanne’s. It would have been an ideal place to close out the evening. But we knew no one, and the night wasn’t over.


Party #4: Stephanie’s House in the Hollywood Hills

Alex’s ex-roomy is Stephanie, who works in freelance production for West Wing. I had missed her birthday party several months ago, so I wanted to hit this one pretty bad and check out the house. We’d clearly missed the bulk of this one since it was already 1am-ish, but it looked like a good crowd, including Michael F, and Alton. Decorum had degenerated with several of us standing over the ham, tearing at it with our fingers rather than be weighed down by the formality of plates and forks. Heh.

One beer later things were slowing down. We were ready to move on, but I was introduced to a single friend of Stephanie’s who was on her way out the door. Hm... I think we got a good enough look at each other. To be continued...?


Party #5: Jason’s House for Poker

Every time I’m up for a hearty man’s game of poker, something gets in the way. Poker becomes blackjack... poker table is filled... I have other plans, etc. By 2am, these guys had been at it for a long time and some of them looked it. Jason, on the other hand, was sober, a devastated casualty from Friday (see party #1). I sat with $15 and suddenly the game becomes Blackjack (Doh!). I got up to $35, then it became poker again. I survived one hand, but the second had too many raises. I cashed out with $7.

Hit the bed around 4:45am. All things done, it was an $8 weekend. Not bad for Budget Boy. And now it’s Sunday. Totally overcast and the perfect day to lie around. Hey, I’ve still got 18 episodes of “Buffy” to catch! And more plans for this week...

Rock on...