Que Sarah, Sarah

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

La La Land

Stories about how mind-numbingly vapid LA is are a dime a dozen. The walking cliches are everywhere--people who couldn't correctly identify a verb in a sentence who claim they're writing the next great screenplay...white, middle aged, blazer and jeans-wearing producers who go out to clubs when they should be home with their wives and kids...twenty-something Iowan former cheerleaders who assume being told they're pretty all their lives is the training required to launch an acting career...40 year old waitresses who are still waiting for their big break while logging their 19th year in the restauarant business.

Yesterday at Coffee Bean I was reminded just how absurd people are when one such person engaged me in awkward stranger conversation. She kept looking out the window while in line and then turned to me and said, "I'm meeting someone here for the first time. I wanna see what kind of car he drives. You know, it's just good to know those sort of things." To which I replied, "Um...yeah? Well, let's hope he doesn't drive a garbage truck." "Oh no, I don't think so." She replied, proving she lacked not only a soul but also a sense of humor. "I think he's much too old for me but I figured I'd give it a shot...I mean, older men tend to have their lives together, you know, make a lot of money, have nice homes, you know." She said, knowingly. I smiled a smile that most likely appeared friendly but was, in fact, a combination of pity, rage and disgust. I managed to get through my order and avoid her, leaving with my tea just as a very, very old white man with white hair stopped to greet her at her table. I never got to ask her whether his car was acceptable or if his large bank account outweighed his imminent death on her pros and cons list. I was too busy calculating exactly how many years I can live here before I succumb to LA and find myself wearing Uggs and a miniskirt, doing a line of blow off a toilet seat in a club, calculating which of the old, white, blazer-wearing producers who have been violating my personal space all night will advance my career the fastest if I sleep with him.

© 2006 Sarah Spain

3 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Doing an old man to get ahead? Acceptable. How else are you going to get a job?

Doing coke off a toilet?
Acceptable. How else are you going to stay thin like Lindsay Lohan?

Wearing Uggs and a miniskirt? COMPLETELY UNACCEPTABLE.

11:05 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

While shallow people do seem to flock to L.A. yearly like the swallows of capistrano, what happens to the droves of talented good hearted people that move there? Are they the ones that get put in the spotlight for us groundlings to admire? Probably not ususally.

See, I have this notion that Hollywood is a well-oiled machine that needs those white, middle aged, blazer and jeans-wearing producers just as much as the Iowan farm gals. If all the talented and truly deserving people took over, clearly this season of "Entourage" would just not be the same.

-RVD

6:55 AM  
Blogger bankmeister said...

you, my friend, are incredible. pinche in-cray-ee-blay.

11:48 AM  

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