It's 1:05 a.m. in Hollywood.
Silver Medal Girl is visibly pissed that I actually made her pay to get in as she begrudgingly utters something under her breath before she is suddenly almost knocked down by Glitter Girl and Androgynous Boy, both of whom are getting escorted quickly out of the club by a bouncer.
“Byyyeee … Glitter Girl waves to me as she goes out the front door still smiling, still out of her mind on the Xanax that she, if she’s still looking, will now easily find outside on the streets of Hollywood at this late night hour.
“What was she on?” Silver Medal Girl sarcastically asks.
“Well, now she’s on the street!” I sarcastically answer. “Now you’re the shiniest thing in here.”
“Is that a compliment?” she asks.
“Well, with you and the girl with all the glitter on her face who just got kicked out here together, for that brief second I thought I was going to need to put on my sunglasses,” I jokingly reply.
“The lights aren’t that bright in here,” she answers back.
“Neither are most people who wear their sunglasses inside a club,” I say.
“Not that bright to you?” she asks as she pretends to be genuinely interested in what my answer may be.
It’s not really a bright idea to wear sunglasses in a club at night, unless you’re in an ’80s music video, or any hip-hop video ever made, for that matter.”
“Not even if you’re trying to be the ‘shiniest thing in there’?” she says, as if she were winning a gold medal with the callback in this particular question.
“Usually the shiniest things in here do wear sunglasses with their shiny clothing: anything for the attention. There’s a big difference between the ‘shiniest’ and the ‘brightest’,” I say.
It's 1:06 a.m. in Hollywood.
“Just because someone wears shiny and bright clothing and sunglasses in a club doesn’t mean they’re not too bright in the head,” Silver Medal Girl states as she firmly adjusts her own sunglasses to coincide with statement.
“I’m not saying that. I’m not here to judge peoples' IQs. I’m not even here to judge their IDs – their photos – the way they used to look and dress before they ever came here to Hollywood, before they ever came to this club, before they moved here from small town wherever or whatever and decided to get a new look and a new attitude to play the game. I don’t judge these people; I don’t know these people.
I’m just saying most of the people who wear the sunglasses at night and the bright and shiny clothes in the club obviously want people to notice them. They want to be seen, and if I wanted that so badly I’d make sure my light didn’t dim after first contact.”
“After first contact?” she asks puzzlingly. “Are you using another sports reference or a sexual reference here?”
“Neither,” I say. “I’m referring to first contact like the first steps on another planet, like a walk on the moon or something. Most of these people – these shiny, attention seeking people – want others to notice them first of all, then when and if they meet, they want the person they’ve met to think they are different than all the other shiny things on this planet we call L.A. And ultimately they want something new; something out of this world.”
Blogs: Door Service
Chapter 10: At First Contact: Adventures of a Club Doorman
Article posted on 10/3/2011
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