that was a tasty eclair

The other night, I had plans to check out either Goa (big dance club) or Foxtail (the hot new club) so of course ended up at Villa, because that’s just how it goes. Stephanie was there, looking particularly luscious in a lowcut minidress. “Where,” I said, “are the jeans and white tank top?” Which is her customary club outfit. This girl is no fool. When you look like Stephanie — fresh lovely face and flat stomach and large breasts and long blonde hair — you can set yourself apart not just through knockout looks but the implication that, among the stylized and overstylized outfits that fill these kinds of places, you don’t even have to try.

Now I am a happily married woman. Which means I like to live vicariously through Stephanie, because that way I get to have, say, a wild affair with a tall gorgeous actor from one of the most popular TV shows around (she got him shortly after his high-profile actress girlfriend dumped him for an actor even taller and more successful than he is, so he was deliciously vulnerable…and knew it). So as we settled at a table in the highly coveted downstairs area but tucked behind the entrance, which means it’s drafty and kind of hidden and an excellent place to put the non-famous people, I checked in with Stephanie to see whom I might be sleeping with now (unfortunately for me, Stephanie is what you would call ‘a nice girl’, who just happened to get trapped in the body of a very very bad one).

It so happens she’s been dating Pierre*. “He knows you!” she exclaimed.

“You’re going out with Pierre?”

“Your name came up and I said, ‘Wait, you know her?’ And he said, ‘Of course, she’s my friend,’ –”

“You’re going out with Pierre?”

” — and I was like, ‘Wait a minute, she’s my friend!”

“You’re going out with Pierre?”

Small world. I wondered if I had been on his private jet yet and if so, what it looked like, but before I could ask Stephanie what we had been up to, she had me on the dance floor. In the course of several songs Stephanie was approached by at least as many men; she would smile sweetly at them and send them on their way, and I wasn’t quite sure if she knew them or not (“No,” she said later). I like men and, happily, have never really suffered for their attention but more than once I’ve heard myself described as aloof and intimidating — which is partly my height, I think, and also an essentially introverted nature. I can seem outgoing — hell, I get downright cocky in a way that makes me want to slap myself — but social contact tends to drain me and I’ll have to go into my head for a bit to recharge, which makes me come off as rather guarded and reserved. In American culture in particular, this tends to get interpreted in a negative light. So it was interesting to contrast my experiences with Stephanie’s and realize all over again how I have never been particularly approachable.** Stephanie casts off a perky, friendly, welcoming presence, and this combined with a few other things makes for a girl who beats them off with the proverbial stick. Smiling all the while. I got exhausted just watching.

As it turned out, E and I saw Pierre later that same weekend. Wrapping up his evening at Chateau Marmont, he was the only person in his party of six who wasn’t an attractive twentysomething female. Stephanie’s name surfaced briefly in conversation, and once he had puzzled out just which Stephanie I was referring to — apparently there’s more than one — chirped, “Yes yes yes, she’s a sweetheart!” But he was preoccupied with a different matter. He wanted a chocolate eclair. Such a thing is not listed on the Chateau Marmont dessert menu, and this did not strike him as either right or fair. He disappeared for a little while, winding his way past Matthew Perry at the next table***, and when he came back he was beaming. “The waitress hooked me up,” he explained. “I’m excited!” Sure enough, two chocolate eclairs materialized a few minutes later. I took a bite, and wouldn’t you know, it was the best eclair I’ve tasted in eons.

* scroll down for recent blog entry in which I introduce him

** not that this has ever bothered me, since I never enjoyed being hit on. Nature finds a balance.

***I say this because for some bizarre reason whenever I’m at Marmont it’s at a table across from Matthew Perry’s. I cannot explain this. It just seems to happen. One might think I was stalking him. But I’m not. I’m really really not.

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