“So you work in Hollywood!!!” the
last two people that I dined with in Indiana (alongside my parents) full-on
“Ethel Mertzed” me with stars in their eyes.
“We met Sean Connery once!” they informed me, as they had accidentally
crossed a street on vacation where filming was occurring on location and were
immediately hustled out of the camera shot by Security. “Do you know Sean Connery?”
As I most unfortunately am NOT able to
count said brilliant Scottish Actor amongst my list of friends, but as I could
also understand their Midwest enthusiasm towards Tinsel Town, I spared them my
Sean Connery impersonation, but rather attempted to entertain them with my
limited Sit-Com abilities.
After all, I’d spent the morning
being crammed inside a cardboard box.
Now, to say that my parents have a unique sense of humor would be to
diminish the word “unique”. (Many of you
know my birth name – well, they’ve had 47 more years to hone their special
craft.) So I wasn’t particularly
surprised when my Mom eventually nailed the “perfect” wedding gift for my
friends RJ and Richard as they celebrated their upcoming nuptials in New York.
With “We respectfully request no
gifts” printed on the limited invitations mailed for the ceremony by R and R,
my parents (despite not being invited) still felt obligated out of sheer love
to do something for my engaged
friends to wish them their best!
Hence the cardboard box...
Whipping out a roll of white wedding
wrapping paper and a large spool of ribbon, my Mom took to task to tape, cut,
staple and arrange the Set Decorations for their matrimonial present. And engaging my Dad as Director of
Photography, Cameraman and Cinematographer, my Mom also tackled the Wardrobe
Department as she selected a hand-crafted massive pink bow which she crammed
into my ponytail holder, along with one cascading earring made of pearls.
And whilst I don’t know the exact sentiment
verbatim, I do believe the gist of the photo and the card went something like
this: ‘The item we’re sending to you
both is priceless; but shipping and handling cost us two grand to get her there
(non-refundable). Enjoy!’ |
| (Did you think I was kidding?) |
>>><<<
With an hour flight delay from
Detroit MI to Syracuse NY, texting Richard with updates and whatnot as
information was provided, I did my best to stifle my irritable desire for a
dose of Nicotine. And purchasing a $3.00
cupcake (really?) and another $4.00
bottle of water (seriously?) to pass
the time, I settled in with the travelling masses for a bit of mind-numbing
game play on my Kindle Fire HD.
*boing*
What the...?*boing, boing, boing*
WTF?
*boing, boing, boing, boing, boing*
Fleeing like rats from a sinking
ship, every well-seasoned traveler scurried from the aisle where we were seated
as one obnoxious “gentleman” repeatedly bopped up and down, left and right like
a crabby toddler; bouncing the entire row like a bully on a seesaw until all
the littlest of patrons had been tossed off his fulcrum wherein he could
properly spread out his luggage.
“You don’t scare me” I muttered
under my breath, as my Kindle continued to “boing” out of my hands.
And as if hearing my bold challenge
to maintain my seating at the airport in Detroit, The Thing kicked off its
plastic Croc slip-on shoes to stretch its hairy toes...
RUN AWAY! RUN AWAY!
RUN AWAY!
>>><<<
Frankly, by the time I landed in
Syracuse, I couldn’t get away from the public masses fast enough. Call me a diva if you will, but if I had to
suffer through one more minute of being whacked on the head by people who stuff
their carry-ons to full capacity, clocked in the jaw by unwieldy lady’s bulging
purses or bonked on the kneecap by a Flight Attendant’s trash bag, I would’ve
completely lost my mind.
Until...
Collapsing into a welcoming hug from
my friend RJ (who instinctively lit up a
ciggy for me) and waving to his fiancé Richard (who cheerfully waved back as he stalked a prime loading spot in his
convertible bat-mobile); all was right with the world.
Ahhh, the fresh air to obliterate
the stink of airports out of my hair as we motored along! Oh, the joy of companionship in a glamorous
magazine-worthy loft that over-looked the city!
OOH! And the VIP treatment of
cocktails and marinated steaks cooked on the balcony!
Honestly, I couldn’t see how the
next couple of days could even begin
to top such an extravagant prelude...
Yet that is where
I would be phenomenally mistaken!
With the arrival of RJ’s brother and
sister-in-law, we found ourselves whisked away that evening to the Turning Stone
Resort/Casino, wherein Richard checked me into the (to-be shared with my
college friend “Rose”) Junior Suite; escorted me to the Diamond Card Service
desk to assist in setting up my debit gaming account; and exhausted as he was
with the onslaught of incoming relatives, even stayed with me for a bit to play
some slot machines! (I’d been told that Richard has AMAZING luck at gaming, but surely that
was an urban myth, right?)
Meanwhile, as we were all left to
our own devices to feed or gamble the following day, Rose and I smartly fed
affordably at the Food Court, greeted RJ’s Dad “Papa John” (who, within twenty seconds asked if I was still unemployed – AWESOME!);
piddled away a few bucks at the video poker machines, and with Rose heading up
to the Suite for a nap, I ponied up next to RJ at a slot machine for assistance
on the confusing control panel of buttons.
“You’re gonna want to play one coin,
but twenty lines. Trust me.”
And suddenly assailed by visuals of
armored Knights with lances on horseback as the machine randomly spun ten free
spins, I danced like a maniac as music played and 500 credits
pling-pling-plinged into my account!!!
“What did I win?! What did I win?!” I squealed, as the people
behind me turned around to gape at my ostentatious behavior.
“Well, it’s only a nickel machine,
so that would be $25.00” RJ laughed.
WOO-HOO!!!
>>><<<
With a formal dinner pre-set for the
35 or so of us that evening on the 21st floor in the TS Steakhouse
at 7:30pm, I was happy to receive a text from RJ and Richard, that should
anyone care to join them, they would be having cocktails there in the bar at
6:15. And taking turns for us all to
ride up the elite elevator car; I’ll be darned if my $25.00 winnings were of no
use...
“You’re a Guest of the ***/*** party”
the Bartender explained to me.
“Belvedere is the Host’s chosen vodka of the evening, but you may have
whatever you like!”
“Belvedere would be quite lovely,
thank you” I smiled, wondering just what Rabbit Hole I’d fallen down, and how
could I possibly stay there forever?
But not to be outdone by premium
cocktails, our Primo Waiter Greg assisted in gathering us together into a large
private room wherein a Staff of Assistants laid out menus of items, all
specifically chosen by our Hosts. Crab
cakes, jumbo shrimp, Caesar salad, etc. adorned the appetizer section; a
gazillion side dishes were offered; and eying the Entrée selection, I drooled
over the thought of a Filet Mignon (12oz?
Seriously?), which on my BEST meat-eating day I’d never get
through! Oh, and then there were the
desserts! A crème broulee with seasonal
berries? A TEN LAYER slice of chocolate
cake with gold edible shavings? Not to
mention the Vanilla Bean cheesecake poppers for everyone?
To be honest, I think I made it
through a quarter of a salad (HUGE!), a tiny spoonful of most of the side
dishes (any more would have been painful), and maybe a third of my magnificent
pork chop on the bone with an apple jam marmalade.
“Here comes dessert!” Greg announced
professionally as we all emitted a unanimous groan.
Oh, don’t get me wrong! I still managed to devour my cheesecake
popper, as well as a few bites of crème broulee and some chocolate cake (with
GOLD!) before retiring to the blissfully empty “Cigar Room” for a ciggy with
Rose and RJ; but quite frankly I never wanted to eat again!
And lounging like gluttonous Royalty
in the leather high-back chair, I pawed at my purse to answer the tinkle of my
cell phone – the caller ID shining brightly as “Casting”.
“Hi Penny, I was wondering if you
might be available to Stand-in for two days on the new Kirstie Alley show this
Monday.”
“I’d love to!” I replied. “I’m actually in New York at the moment, but
I should be back in Los Angeles Sunday night by 9pm.”
“Oh dear... Are you sure you can make it?” the friendly
Casting Agent wanted to know.
“What could possibly go wrong?” I
assured her, taking down all of the necessary information as to my stage and
call time.
>>><<<
As some of the senior family members
had belly-full retired for the evening, and with only one night left to gamble
in the Casino before the wedding the next morning, Rose and I ambled to a
couple of old-style Vegas-type dollar slot machines with minimal simple wheels
while RJ and Richard tried their luck with various other games.
Still baffled by the complexities of
twenty-line zigzag diagonal payouts, and getting comfy in a plushy upright
chair with “Double Seven” theme, I was content to play with a small portion of
my Indiana money as my chosen one-armed-bandit kept me interested with the
occasional $20 or $40 reward. In fact,
it appeared that as long as my balance was near $100 on the gaming debit card
(and not reeking of financial desperation), I could play all evening!
And so with a button push of three
credits (show no fear!), the one-armed-bandit spun three wheels which landed
precisely dead center on a double red seven, a double green seven and a
matching double blue seven. ($480.00!!!)
“That’s just elegant” a Casino Host
magically appeared by my side.
“Yeah...” I agreed happily (on the verge of tears after an entire
summer of unemployment!)
Yet as fat and wealthy as I felt in
the moment, you could’ve knocked me over with a feather as my beloved friend
Richard ceremoniously danced and shouted “Twenty Thousand Dollars! Twenty Thousand Dollars! I JUST WON TWENTY THOUSAND DOLLARS!!!” as his
($25.00 per pull) one-armed-bandit machine lit up with all due bells and
whistles!
And THAT, my friends, could not have
been a more stellar cosmic “Congratulations!” wedding gift from The Universe!
Still working on writing Part Three
of “My Iliad” as my pea-brain continues to explore life “outside of the box”,
~The On-going Passenger P
p.s. Next stops – The wedding, and
home to LA!
No comments:
Post a Comment