Last Friday, my director friend, Jeff called me. Jeff was a student film director whose dream was to make the greatest American film of all time. It was also his dream to put me in another one of his films. Originally, he had given me a small part in a student film he was supposed to direct last February, but when he got arrested for a DUI, the whole thing fell through.
Jeff had won some sort of scholarship through some film school in California and was given $5000 to make a movie. And since he remembered my phone number (and my face), he called and asked if I was interested in making another movie. I, of course, had my misgivings because if my "movie career" didnt pan out the first time, really, what was different this time around?
But Jeff convinced me to meet with him and reluctantly, I agreed. I still felt somewhat responsible for being the person that drugged Jeff (and for keeping the green jacket from the first film) so Saturday night, I found myself having dinner at the historic Hotel Congress in historic downtown Tucson with Jeff and his group of drama major friends.
They were a...what’s the word...unique group of people who wore black without being too morbid and spoke big words like "beneficial" and "intellectual" without sounding too pretentious. They were the epitome of what I considered the word "adult" to mean. They were sophisticated and classy and spoke slowly and clearly, while I was a raging mess of a person who spoke too fast with Marsala cream sauce dripping from my mouth. They used French phrases sporadically in their conversations, while I just sat in silence and smiled. The only French I ever mastered was very basic French, with phrases such as "bonjour" and "voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir."
Sitting across from me, was a girl named Monique. The only French she seemed to master was the kiss and the phrase, "ménage à trois." Monique had studied drama for three years, hoping to one day make it to the Broadway stage, but so far she had only made it backstage. She wasn’t much to look at, but she was horny as hell, and it seemed that was all Jeff needed to know to cast her in his movie.
After dinner we went back to Jeff’s apartment for cocktails and a viewing of his favorite movie, Ed Wood. Someone had brought out the kama sutra body chocolate paint and soon, arms, legs, and faces were made into delectable deserts. I coudnt believe this was the same group of mature adults that I just had dinner with. I started to wonder if this was really how adults behaved behind closed doors. Were they just mature on the outside? And if so, why were they afraid to be young and carefree?
I was even more confused as I saw Monique perform fellatio acts on Jeff during the movie. It certainly wasnt a child-like thing to do, but getting sick from the body chocolate and throwing up all over Jeff's lap was. So I decided to ask my friend Rose, at what age do people stop acting young and start acting mature? Unfortunately I never got the chance to ask Rose anything, because she interrupted me with an invitation to a dysfunctional Mother's Day dinner with her...Jesse...and Damien.
Sunday evening, at the Golden Corral Buffet, I was eating, yet another awkward dinner. Somehow, Jesse and Damien had made peace and were able to eat dinner at the same table, but somehow I couldnt accept their newfound friendship. The level of denial was just unbelievable. It was like that one episode of The Twilight Zone where all the people were different, except one person, and the others all thought that one single person was ugly when that person was really pretty, and so they made fun of that person, and...actually, come to think of it, weren't all the episodes pretty much like that?
As I got up to get a plate of pepperoni pizza and mashed potatoes, I started to think, that maybe something was wrong with me. Maybe I was the one that needed to grow up. It's like what my blog friend Jillian said on her blog...
"When I was younger and thought about where I would be at my age or older I always thought that I would have things under better control and that I knew where I was going to be going in my life, and the truth is, I do not the have the slighest idea."
And though, it's something I know I'll have time to figure out, I wondered if it was too soon to be thinking of becoming an adult. But then, as I saw hot chicken noodle soup spill onto the lap of an armless man, I laughed and realized I was not yet ready to be all mature. Someday, I would grow up, but for now, I was happy being the fast-talking, immature, non-French-speaking, person that I was.
As I came back to my dinner table to share my newfound wisdom, (and the funny armless man story) I found Damien, down on one knee, on soda-stained carpet. And it was right there, in front of me, Jesse, and a room full of outlet clothing and Fantastic Sam's haircuts, Damien proposed to Rose. I guess some people, just never grow up.
Jeff had won some sort of scholarship through some film school in California and was given $5000 to make a movie. And since he remembered my phone number (and my face), he called and asked if I was interested in making another movie. I, of course, had my misgivings because if my "movie career" didnt pan out the first time, really, what was different this time around?
But Jeff convinced me to meet with him and reluctantly, I agreed. I still felt somewhat responsible for being the person that drugged Jeff (and for keeping the green jacket from the first film) so Saturday night, I found myself having dinner at the historic Hotel Congress in historic downtown Tucson with Jeff and his group of drama major friends.
They were a...what’s the word...unique group of people who wore black without being too morbid and spoke big words like "beneficial" and "intellectual" without sounding too pretentious. They were the epitome of what I considered the word "adult" to mean. They were sophisticated and classy and spoke slowly and clearly, while I was a raging mess of a person who spoke too fast with Marsala cream sauce dripping from my mouth. They used French phrases sporadically in their conversations, while I just sat in silence and smiled. The only French I ever mastered was very basic French, with phrases such as "bonjour" and "voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir."
Sitting across from me, was a girl named Monique. The only French she seemed to master was the kiss and the phrase, "ménage à trois." Monique had studied drama for three years, hoping to one day make it to the Broadway stage, but so far she had only made it backstage. She wasn’t much to look at, but she was horny as hell, and it seemed that was all Jeff needed to know to cast her in his movie.
After dinner we went back to Jeff’s apartment for cocktails and a viewing of his favorite movie, Ed Wood. Someone had brought out the kama sutra body chocolate paint and soon, arms, legs, and faces were made into delectable deserts. I coudnt believe this was the same group of mature adults that I just had dinner with. I started to wonder if this was really how adults behaved behind closed doors. Were they just mature on the outside? And if so, why were they afraid to be young and carefree?
I was even more confused as I saw Monique perform fellatio acts on Jeff during the movie. It certainly wasnt a child-like thing to do, but getting sick from the body chocolate and throwing up all over Jeff's lap was. So I decided to ask my friend Rose, at what age do people stop acting young and start acting mature? Unfortunately I never got the chance to ask Rose anything, because she interrupted me with an invitation to a dysfunctional Mother's Day dinner with her...Jesse...and Damien.
Sunday evening, at the Golden Corral Buffet, I was eating, yet another awkward dinner. Somehow, Jesse and Damien had made peace and were able to eat dinner at the same table, but somehow I couldnt accept their newfound friendship. The level of denial was just unbelievable. It was like that one episode of The Twilight Zone where all the people were different, except one person, and the others all thought that one single person was ugly when that person was really pretty, and so they made fun of that person, and...actually, come to think of it, weren't all the episodes pretty much like that?
As I got up to get a plate of pepperoni pizza and mashed potatoes, I started to think, that maybe something was wrong with me. Maybe I was the one that needed to grow up. It's like what my blog friend Jillian said on her blog...
"When I was younger and thought about where I would be at my age or older I always thought that I would have things under better control and that I knew where I was going to be going in my life, and the truth is, I do not the have the slighest idea."
And though, it's something I know I'll have time to figure out, I wondered if it was too soon to be thinking of becoming an adult. But then, as I saw hot chicken noodle soup spill onto the lap of an armless man, I laughed and realized I was not yet ready to be all mature. Someday, I would grow up, but for now, I was happy being the fast-talking, immature, non-French-speaking, person that I was.
As I came back to my dinner table to share my newfound wisdom, (and the funny armless man story) I found Damien, down on one knee, on soda-stained carpet. And it was right there, in front of me, Jesse, and a room full of outlet clothing and Fantastic Sam's haircuts, Damien proposed to Rose. I guess some people, just never grow up.
|