Being single in LA has got to be one of the single most bizarre experiences of my life. Guys are hot here. Like, incredibly hot. And also very concerned about their look- for the most part, they are very put together even if the look IS that they're NOT put together...does that make sense? A New Yorker may call them very Williamsburg Hipster, if you will. Problem is, besides being intimidated by men prettier than me, if any one of them said they were gay, it would not surprise me in the least. They all could quite possibly be into dudes and I would not flinch. At least, in NYC, I knew a straight guy when I saw one. And I think I know enough gays in New York to actually be considered a Gay Icon, so I feel like I've met them all already. Here, I'm just...confused.
And, let's be honest- hard up. Which is why the following two occurrences fucked me up a bit.
So, I decided that, in order to combat the slight amount of depression I was feeling around my birthday, I would do what I love and sing somewhere. A Musical Theatre Composer who I did not know was put in touch with me by a mutual friend and asked me to sing a song of his at a new writers' showcase here in LA the night of my birthday and the evening after. His birthday was two days after mine so we promised to celebrate; he was flying in and out pretty quickly from NYC for the weekend. Over the phone he was very witty and, at times, downright sassy. When we met for the first time at a rehearsal, he looked like how I expected him to look- clean cut, glasses, button down shirt, very sweet-faced. A Southern Gentleman. He didn't give a lot up as far as his feelings about how I sounded on his song, but a couple of incidental touches made me feel like he approved of my work. Yet I felt this strong desire to impress him and I went home determined to work until I felt extremely comfy with the new tune. Gotta make the sistah proud!
On my actual birthday, I was running around like a cookoo, had a meeting here, a coaching there, I ended up having a lil diva fit at sound check as only I can do (it was taking waaay too long and my car was in a tow away zone!) and I had an amazing dinner with my Show Biz Cousin before the actual performance and was strolling in at showtime instead of the half hour before as requested, using the "Birthday Girl" excuse. The crowd was very dignified and polite, a bit on the older side to appreciate some of the more contemporary material, especially my song which was about a girl having her first lesbian experience but I remembered all the words and managed to stay in the moment. We were all asked to stay until the end to do a group bow and mingle afterwards, which meant that those of us done early were huddled in the back "dressing room", which was more of a storage space with a desk. MTC looked very relieved about how his set went and gave little touches to my hair and long necklace. He even managed to give me a side-squeeze or two while thanking me for doing this on my birthday. I had made him happy. My task was complete. Afterwards, I ran off to another friend's birthday party in Los Feliz which was a pajama party with giant pizzas and karaoke- fun times.
The next night, everyone was much more relaxed, the crowd was a hair bit hipper and the performers (all of whom were incredible, btw) were looser and sharing much more in the back room at the club. This one brilliant singer was somewhere between Martin Short & Joel Grey, a Broadway doll with great stories, and he had us hootin' and hollerin' in no time. All kinds of inappropriate jokes (my favorite) being made all around. At one point, it was just MTC & MS/JG chillin' and we discussed hanging out for MTC's birthday. "I am so happy to put an end to this year- it was a doozy;" MTC offered up, "I had two break-ups in one year." "Two?!", MS/JG and I spoke in stereo. "Yeah, one just happened right before I flew here." MS/JG dramatically said, "Whoooo was it?!" "Renee So & So." "Well, let me at that Mary and I'll take care of her!", MS/JG exclaimed. MTC blushed a little. "It actually IS a woman, by the way," he let us know. We. Were. SHOCKED. And Did. Not. Hide it. "Reeeally?!" MS/JG squeaked out. I was speechless with a dropped jaw. "I know, people think I'm gay all of the time. I don't even try to explain or defend anymore. I'm light. I know it," he said so sweetly in his slight draw. And all I could think about was how differently all of those touches were all of a sudden. We continued talking and horsing around but now when MTC made a blue joke, MS/JG and I would pause and then say, "Nope. It's awwwl different now. Not the same. Completely different." It was a very fun and bouncy back & forth.
At the end of this show, we all stood around the piano as we had the night before and were about to bow when the host started to go on a tangent about music and muses and suddenly asked a girl who sang that night to sit on a stool as her composer boyfriend sat at the piano; he proceeded to sing a song he had written for her and at the end got on his knee with a ring and proposed. It was... amazing. No one knew. NO ONE. Such a brilliant surprise. We all were DEFinitely headed out after now to celebrate.
As we mingled amongst the very excited crowd, MTC still continued with his hair-playing and jewelry-fondling and with every hug, I decided to let go and lean into each one a little bit. I decided that I would take what I was given. I decided that cuddling felt good. And we sat next to each other in the booth at the big long table at the bar and he talked quietly about the end of his relationship close to my ear and I offered advice and tried to keep it positive. MS/JG was telling us stories about a serious girlfriend he had in New York before he came out who is now a pretty famous actress. We started talking about sexuality and the difference between gays who have had sex with women and those who have not (I can always tell). The straight piano player was a very good sport listening and participating in our shenanigans. Then somehow, I took a cue about being lonely to mention my use of X-Tube since I've moved out here to LA. Now, while writing THIS, I blush. That night? Just brazen. All three men stopped everything they were doing and looked at me, eyebrows raised. "What? It's free!" And then they kinda looked at each other as if to silently say, "Oh THIS is where this is going right now?" And it did. We had the porn conversation. And as I watched MTC participate, I thought to myself, "I will go to his hotel room if he asks. But he's gotta ask. He's gotta seal the deal." I wasn't even sure if he was staying in his own hotel room; the piano player could have been crashing with him. They had crazy early flights and it was already after two am...details, deschmails. I would work something out. Then MTC says, "I wish you lived in NYC. So we could be...good...friends..." UGH. This shit again. "What keeps us from being friends now?" I ask. "Well, guess we could facebook and text-" "And CALL," I add. "We could be bi-coastal friends. I am thinking of coming back for a visit in the fall. Will be there around Thanksgiving definitely." "Well, I'm down in Alabama teaching this semester. I won't be there." "Then why are you wishing that I WAS?!" He just smiled at my yelling. A moment passed. I thought he'd ask. Or kiss me. Or something. But he didn't close. We got up with the group and walked to our cars. Said a polite goodbye in front of everyone. And, poof-gone.
We've texteded a couple times where I have (unsuccessfully) tried to steer him into sexy banter. Even used "Sadist & masochist" in one of them. Boo, hiss.
Now, this brings me to the NEXT time I sang in public, which was just this passed week. There is a kick-ass R&B cover band with a standing gig every Wednesday night at a dive bar in Culver City my friends and I stumbled upon one week which has a craaaazy brilliant lead singer living his life like it's golden. During our first time there, someone managed to convince the band, sight unseen, to let me sing Respect with them. They invited me back. This is our return trip. My roommate, nurse by day, rock 'n' roll groupie by night and my college girlfriend who is Full On Jersey Italian are my partners in crime, part of a group of, like, seven or eight of us holding up the bar. I sing. It's crazy fun; packed bar joins in on Natural Woman (I only like to do crowd pleasers) and I get random hugs from strangers as I make my way back to my tribe. A very cute inebriated guy approaches at the urging of his more sober friend. "That was amazing." "Thank you-isn't this band great? I love singing with them." We introduce ourselves and I ask, "So, is that shirt a uniform or just something that Abercrombie sells?" "Oh, no, I actually came from playing Volleyball- it's real." We talk about that. He has a job where he's alone in a room all day editing so he likes to do stuff to keep social. I tease, "Lemme guess, you are in a dodgeball league, too?" He blushes. He IS. We laugh. We have, what I think, is a very lovely conversation filled with chemistry and fun and jokes and it's very easy talking to Drunk Volleyball Guy. And then, then conversation goes to a place about 'the Next Time' which I'm thinking is a natural place for him to ask me for my number. I wait. And... NOTHING. He DOESN'T CLOSE. Just awkward staring. Like a guppy. WTF?!?! So eventually, Rock n Roll Nurse saves me and says, "Well, that's just a blog entry happening live, isn't it?!" and FOJI says, "He's wasted, he's wasted." Sigh. I look over and DVG's back is to me and his Wingman over his shoulder signals wordlessly to me from across the bar, "Wha happened?!" and I frantically sign back "He didn't ask me for my number!!" holding up an air-cell phone to my ear as I shrug. DVGW throws his hands up in the air and mouths "I'm sorry" to me. Me and my crew leave after the band's set is over.
It's RnRN, FOJI, and I in the car with a friend who's on a TV show and is the Straightest Acting Gay Guy I know. No one ever EVER thinks he's gay. Now, he's not tryyying to be straight by ANY means, he just happens to be a very non-femmy, out homosexual. We're passing the In & Out Burger on Venice, and I shout, "I'm buying us all milkshakes!!" and we drive thru. And we recap the night's events. And here's how I see it- I, for the life of me, can't understand why I can't get a lil somethin' somethin' after singing somewhere. I mean, that is me at my most ME, it's me being completely off of myself & in the middle of doing what I love, Cool Girl is NOwhere to be found, surely SOMEone must think that's HOT? ANYone?! FOJI says, "It's intimidating, it's intimidating." And SAGG says, "You know, it's weird because I go through a similar thing being on TV. People don't know how to approach me and they already think I may not be gay or am not out because of the show... I think FOJI might be right." I suck down my black & white in two seconds flat.
Good gravy.
I will end with this: I belieeeeve in Love but sometimes it's reeeeally haaaaard to. But I guess that's what Faith is. It's real easy to have it when things are honky-dory, but it's when things are fucked that it counts the most.
And I am going to do a duet with that singer some Wednesday soon... :)
