I woke up to the sound of keys, the door opening and people entering my house.
"What the fuck? Who's there?"
"Hey Merks, it's Don Steele. I brought by some people for you to meet."
I was instantly filled with complete and utter rage because there is NOTHING I hate more than the unannounced "DROP IN".
I looked across the great big dimly lit basement expanse to see a bunch of random people filing into my home. I immediately ascertained that Don Steele was bringing by some out of town family members because these people certainly didn't look like his regular crowd nor did they look local. I hate it when people use my joint as a tourist attraction.
I wanted desperately to blow up at Don and let him know just how ENTIRELY rude it is to treat my home as another san francisco tourist attraction. The people just kept filing in and spreading out throughout my joint. They were picking through things, picking stuff up, looking really closely at anything they could find, my rage was completely overwhelming. I had absolutely NO warning, my house was a mess, I wasn't even dressed and here was Don Steele organizing a party at my house, pouring himself and everyone else my booze, leaving my refrigerator open, this was so unlike Don, he is usually the courteous one who doesn't bring just anyone over.
As people would come over to the edge of my bed to introduce themselves I would keep saying stuff like "WHAT A SURPRISE" sarcastically of course but people would just laugh thinking I was just being funny when really I was wanting to dump acid on everyone vaporizing them into a painful eternal mist of get-the-fuck-out.
Don Steele was crying in the bathroom. He sensed or overheard that I was pissed and he felt ashamed. Now I was even more pissed because I had to add pity and shame to my list of feelings.
At this point the DJ and sound equipment had arrived along with a group of movers and cleaners who began moving my furniture around and spraying everything down with a goopy cleaning solution applied with a big fire hose. The three inches of dust under my bed turned into a thick paste.
I had enough.
I was so filled with rage that I decided I better leave before I actually murdered someone.
As a made my way towards the stairs leading up and out of my dark basement apartment I could see that a huge dance was going on in the ballroom. It was a bunch of black women dancing to some serious booty bass two step. It looked fun enough but the main thing I was thinking was why I didn't use the ballroom more often. I practically forgot I even had it.
I caught a cab across town and as happens from time to time the cab driver remembered me and was very excited to see me.
"Our last conversation was so intriguing I am so glad to see you. I have been driving by your house for months hoping to give you a ride again."
He had a big mustache and reminded me of the nerdy birdlike manager of the all you can eat restaurant where I was employed as a 16 year old kid.
"Randall right?"
"Holy moly you remembered? Hey ya wanna go to the lighthouse or something?"
"No thanks Randall, I'm in a sour mood and I really just want some food."
"No problemo señor!"
Holy crap was this dude a dork.
We arrived at my destination but instead of dropping me off, Randall decided to walk in with me. I was not all too excited about my new puppy but I didn't have the energy to shake him. Besides, he looked like an assistant and was behaving as one as well. He might be useful.
The party was a swanky affair with all the rich people and artists in the area, everyone knew me but I wasn't feeling like stopping to chat with anyone. I finally figured out that Randall was just gonna be a pest because he kept saying;
"Hey I think that person knows you."
"Yeah, everybody knows me Randall, just keep walkin."
"Don't ya think you should stop and say hi?"
"Hey Randall thanks for the ride." I said as I slipped him a hundred bucks even though I already paid him outside.
My passive aggressive handshake sealed the deal. The sad look on Randall's face was quite hard on my heart. I hate hurting people's feelings.
I walked down into the vip bar and as I descended the stairs a very familiar face was looking at me. It was someone I had met once before but I don't think I really knew him. He pointed at me and gave me the thumbs up as if to say "lookin sharp pal" I did the same back but I was wracking my brain trying to figure out how I remembered him. The man sitting next to him was obviously his brother, they looked nearly like twins except the brother had black hair and a beard and my mystery pal had white hair.
Meryl Streep tugged at my jacket to say hi but I was so frustrated trying to remember the dude who was looking at me with that familiar look that I shrugged her off.
"Hey sweetie, you look dynamite." I said.
Demi Moore was sitting across the way, the old reporter Charles Kerault was there.
"Hey what's the name of that dude with the white hair over there? He keeps giving me the thumbs up and I think I'm supposed to remember him" I asked a friend standing next to me. But before my friend could answer a woman sitting at the table turned towards me and said:
"Merkley, you know him, that's my dad."
It was was Jane Fonda. Of course, Henry Fonda, I knew him. I finally had the confidence to wave back at him without getting into a mess. Just as I was doing so I REALLY figured out who it was and it WASN'T Henry Fonda, it was Paul Newman. Man he looked old. Why would Jane Fonda tell me Paul Newman was her dad? What a liar. She's always been weird.
I noticed that Paul Newman was standing up from his dinner so I went over to prove that remembered him. I reached out my had to shake his but he slid out and his brother grabbed my hand instead. I don't remember having ever met him so I played it safe:
"Nice seein ya" I said.
"Merks my man" he said.
Uncomfortable dude silence for 4 seconds.
"Well, I'm out, I'm gonna go shoot some hoops with Meryl, Demi and Jane and the girls."
"Ah -- as you should!" he said.
The girls and I had a weird game of basketball with a flat basketball that I was able to slam dunk with one hand. The girls were all laughing their heads off because -- well -- what can I say -- I'm fucking hilarious.
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