Pulling up to Beach Blender‘s place, I let him get into the car and direct me to the best parking spot; LA street parking is no fucking joke man and I will run any risk of near-death as a means to avoid accruing any more parking tickets in this God forsaken city. Upon him stepping in, I realize that he’s much shorter than I anticipated; 5’8 may as well be 4’8 to me considering I am usually never attracted to any guys under 5’10 (yes I know I’m 4’11 but how about we just chalk it up to Daddy-issues and leave it at that, OK?). I have to give it to him, he is an absolutely adorable guy: He looks like a distinct mix of Jeremy Piven and Steve Carrell, with his short brown hair mildly spiked to a point with pomade, his rugged masculine jaw line, and THAT BODY, all tight and toned muscle packed into a wide, short frame. He’s definitely a surfer, he definitely looks Italian, he definitely looks east-coast. I’m instantly warmed up to him as he hunches his shoulders forward and gives me a warm embracing hug, stating, “AHH! We’re so creepy for this!” referring to our random end-of-the-day meetup.
By the tone of his voice, with the ending intonation of his statement resounding like he just asked me a question, I know damn well that he is NOT east-coast, NOT Italian, but DEFINITELY a surfer. Turns out I’m spot-on; he was born and raised in San Francisco and is also a Jew. I guess that’s the west-coast equivalent to a super Guido goomba from New York…right? Smiling back at him and agreeing that we are two equally creepy, yet surprisingly normal mother fuckers for this, I think to myself, “WOO HOO!! My second Jew!!!” as I am now evidently expanding my multicultural vaginal horizons. Jesus is definitely smiling down on me from above.
After parking my car and shuffling bashfully alongside one another back to his place, he sheepishly requests, “Please don’t judge me based on the people at this party…they’re not really my friends they’re just my neighbors.” I happily assure him I won’t. This….should be interesting.
The rest of the night’s events can only be done justice by listing them sequentially in bullet-point format. So I will do so accordingly.
6:21 PM – Beach Blender takes my hand and leads me over to building alongside the beach. There are six Latino boys all around the age of 21 standing around a BBQ wearing flannel button-ups, socks, and flip flops. They are from Long Beach. I introduce myself and decline their offers for burgers. I accept a Bud Light instead.
6:25 PM – He shows me around his building. It looks like a frat house. It smells like a frat house. I wonder if I will black out here the way I used to do in a frat house.
6:30 PM – We walk over to the beach and make our first stop at a family-owned, custom-made BEEF JERKY shop. There is nothing more glorious than this. They ask us if we want to buy KANGAROO jerky. We say FUCK YEAH DUH. They tell us it’s $20 for a bag. Beach Blender does not hesitate to purchase the bag of kangaroo jerky. We are happy.
6:45 PM – We walk down the boardwalk while each taking one bite of the kangaroo jerky. GUH DAY THESS JUHH KEE EEZZ GRAAAAYT!! we attempt to exclaim in our best Australian accents. I hold the bag of jerky while we walk. I look down and realize I’d been holding the bag upside-down and all the jerky is now on the boardwalk ground. Maybe I can pick it up really quickly before he notices. He notices. I apologize. He tries to hide his disappointment. He says to throw it out. I contemplate eating it anyway. I fear his judgment. I throw out the kangaroo jerky. Best bite for 20 bucks.
7:00 PM -Beach Blender asks me how I ended up in Hollywood. I tell him that it can’t be discussed without two shots of Patron in me.
7:05 PM – We walk into the nearest bar. Beach Blender orders two shots of Patron. We champ that shit. We leave.
7:15 PM – We walk into the next bar. We order two shots of Patron. They only serve beer and wine. Fuckin lame yo. We tell them that’s fuckin lame yo. We leave.
7:20 PM – We walk into the next bar across the street. We order four shots of Patron. A blonde-haired girl at the bar says we make a cute couple. I scream out that we met on Blendr! She doesn’t believe me. Beach Blender is embarrassed. I tell him not to be. We take our shots. Now he’s excited from my excitement. He tells more people at the bar. Four people at the bar download the app. These people will now have amazing stories like ours and/or have way too many trannies trying to holler at them. We tell them to beware of the trannies. They’re very pretty. And they have penises.
7:30 PM – I exchange numbers with the girl at the bar. Her titties are super huge. I tell her that they’re beautiful and that I want to motorboat her. She laughs. She tells me to do the “DC” for Beach Blender. I ask her what that is. She says it’s the “Dick Check” where you make sure he has a big penis before the date goes any further. Beach Blender and I stare at each other and wonder whether or not I will perform the DC. I refrain from doing the DC to Beach Blender. I’m trying to reform my slutty ways.
8:00 PM – We order four more shots. We take the shots. Everyone cheers us on. They love us.
8:30 PM – We decide we’re leaving. We hug our new friends goodbye and congratulate them on having their lives changed by our interaction with them.
8:35 PM – We drunkenly walk hand-in-hand on the sand back to Beach Blender’s apartment. He asks me to come to the club with him tonight. I excitedly say OK! He asks me how I feel about drugs. I excitedly say OK! He asks me how I’d feel about him getting coke tonight. I remember that he is a successful white guy in LA and that I should not be surprised by this conversation. I say that’d be awesome. He is relieved at my response.
9:00 PM – We arrive back at his place. He pours me a glass of red wine. I wonder if my teeth will turn red and skanky looking. I drink my glass of red wine.
9:05 PM – Beach Blender goes to the bathroom. I take a picture of his apartment and send it in a mass text to all my LA friends with his address. I tell them to find me here if I go missing.
9:10 PM – My friends text me back that I’m insane, out of my mind, and every other sort of way you can tell a chick she’s fuckin nuts. I giggle and pay no mind to these judgmental remarks. I decide they are jealous of my adventures and awesomeness.
9:15 PM – I complain about my stiff neck. Beach Blender offers to crack it for me. I happily oblige. Beach Blender comes up from behind me and begins to rub my neck. This feels good. He then cocks my head to one side and *SNAPS* it in his hands. OUCHIES. The pain feels good. I can move my neck again. I thank him.
9:30 PM – Beach Blender puts on house music. He shows me his dance moves. I show him mine. I decide he has good rhythm and is an exceptional dancer. I tell him so. He thanks me. I ask him if he knows how to salsa. He says he’s an excellent salsa dancer. I put on “Besame Mucho.” I dare him to dance with me.
9:35 PM – We move all the furniture out of the living room. We have created a dance floor. We clap for ourselves.
9:40 PM – Beach Blender takes my hand in his and leads me to the floor. I place my left hand on his right shoulder and he takes my right hand in his left. He pulls me closer to him with his right hand on my back. We begin to salsa. He’s an exceptional dancer indeed.
9:45 PM – It’s difficult for me to dance. I’m very drunk. I step on his feet. I WANNA LEAD! We do the meringue instead. He is still an exceptional dancer.
10:10 PM – He twists and turns and dips me. We laugh hysterically together. He pulls me tighter around my waist. I put my arms around his neck. We’re still giggling.
10:15 PM – We awkwardly stare and smirk at each other in silence. We are still swaying from side to side.
10:17 PM – There is a knock at the door.
10:18 PM – LBC Hood Rat comes in and demands to know where the rest of the party is at. We demand to know where all the cocaine is at. LBC Hood Rat has no idea. Neither do we.
10:30 PM – We decide that there is no cocaine to be found. We cheers our solo cups of beer instead.
10:45 PM – Beach Blender asks LBC Hood Rat if he wants to come to the club with us. LBC Hood Rat says he’d love to. The three of us continue to drink, laugh, and talk. I pray that they won’t try to have a three-some with me.
11:00 PM – We leave to go to the club. I demand to know how far it is. Beach Blender says one block. I wonder if I can make it that long without blacking out or vomiting.
11:10 PM – We are still not at the club. I scream at Beach Blender for being a liar. “YOU LIAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I scream while stomping my feet on the pavement. The club is clearly not one block away. Beach Blender offers me a piggy-back ride. I happily hop on top of his back.
11:11 PM – I fall asleep on Beach Blender’s back.
11:28 PM – I wake up standing in front of the club, 31 Ten Lounge. The line is wrapped around the street. I didn’t know there were actually clubs in Santa Monica. Beach Blender calls the owner.
11:30 PM – We bypass the line and walk right in. I sway from side to side. Beach Blender catches me and walks me in.
11:45 PM – We sit at a table with his friends. They look young and hip. The boys are wearing flip flops and sport coats. The girls are skinny and blonde. I feel like I’m either in a Hollister commercial or an MTV reality show about rich 18-year-olds conflicted with how to spend their parents’ money and how desperately they need Botox and a colonic this week. I pour myself a Vodka on the rocks.
12:00 AM – I need to vomit. Beach Blender takes me onto the dance floor.
12:10 AM – Beach Blender and I dance forehead to forehead on the dance floor. I’m getting dizzy. I still need to vomit.
12:15 AM – Beach Blender leans in and kisses me on the dance floor while holding my back in his hands. He’s a great kisser. I still need to vomit.
12:20 AM – Beach Blender moves his hands down towards my ass. I feel the vomit coming up in my mouth. I push Beach Blender away to avoid vomiting in his mouth. He apologizes for moving too fast and attempting to grope me. I swallow my vomit and accept his apology.
12:22 AM – I decide I no longer need to vomit. I begin making out with Beach Blender again.
12:30 AM – We sit back down at the table. I struggle to stay awake. Beach Blender asks if I want some coke. I shrug and say sure.
12:32 AM – Beach Blender gets on his phone to find coke. I fall asleep.
12:35 AM – Beach Blender wakes me up. He said he’s done and ready to leave. He asks me if I’m done. I nod.
12:45 AM – We walk out of the club. Beach Blender squats down so I can jump on his back. I jump on his back. I fall asleep.
1:00 AM – I hear Beach Blender ordering Thai food. I grab the phone from him and scream, “PAD THAI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PANANG CURRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” into the phone. I hand the phone back to Beach Blender. I fall back asleep.
1:05 AM – We get back to Beach Blender’s apartment. He gives me a t-shirt and mesh shorts to wear. I climb into his bed. It’s a tempurpedic. I curl into the fetal position. I tell him to wake me when the food gets here. He says they said one hour. I curse the Thai people at the restaurant. I fall asleep.
2:30 AM – There is a knock at the door. The Thai food is here. I shoot out of bed and *SNATCH* the food from Beach Blender’s hands. We each eat out of the carton. We giggle while we eat. We do not speak.
2:45 AM – We decide the night is over. We hop into bed. We spoon. He is big spoon and I am little spoon. Beach Blender kisses my hair and tells me that he loves that I pushed him away before going any further. I remember that it was because I was gonna vomit in his mouth. I giggle at the thought. Fuck I can’t remember the last time I fell asleep with a man. I hope I don’t snore or fart in my sleep. I fall asleep.