Going Down in La-La Land Read Online Free PDF Page A

friends were gay men. She was always outgoing and a very pretty girl. She told me over the phone she wasn’t dating anybody at the moment and had a bitter breakup with her long-term boyfriend in Las Vegas, the catalyst for her decision to move to LA.
    We decided to meet in the parking lot of Pavilions supermarket on the corner of Robertson and Santa Monica. She came rolling up in a Ford Explorer driven by a cute blond guy with perfect spiky hair that flipped up in the front.
    I was excited to see a familiar face. They smiled wide and waved through the tinted windows, both of them wearing expensive designer shades. Sarah put her window down and stuck her head out.
    “ Hey sistah! What up?” she said in a slick manner, sounding very changed since the last time I had seen her.
    “ Hey you! You look great!” I said, sticking my head through the window and planting a kiss on her cheek.
    “ Adam, this is Stephen,” Sarah gestured.
    “ Hi, Stephen,” I said, reaching my hand across the front of the SUV and trying to make out his eyes behind the dark shades.
    “ Hi,” he smiled back, revealing a perfect set of white teeth. “Hop in. We have someplace cool planned for lunch.”
    Stephen was a former co-worker and now Sarah’s best friend. He was currently “between jobs.” It turned out Sarah was also unemployed, having lost her job in a dispute over ruining her nails after putting up a window display. But you wouldn’t know they were out of work by hanging out with them.
    Stephen was friendly but flashy and pretentious. I hadn’t been in the car but a few minutes when he started going over his list of do’s and don’ts.
    “ We don’t go east of Fairfax when it comes to apartments.” He began. “That is way too east. It gets too trashy. We stay in the core of WeHo.”
    They were horrified to learn I didn’t have a cell phone.
    “ Adam, you are in LA now. You definitely have to get a cell phone! I’ll give you one of mine. I have five of them. Then find yourself a service right away!” Stephen declared.
    They insisted we go to a fabulous spot for lunch called Red on Beverly Boulevard. I immediately gathered that the words of choice for Sarah and her friends were “fabulous” and “sister.”
    Actually, it was pronounced “sistah.”
    On the way to Red, one of their cell phones rang every other minute, making it difficult to carry on even the most mundane conversation. This continued at the restaurant. And, to make matters worse, Stephen was a bit snippy with the waitress, who he made feel like an inconvenience. It was apparent Stephen never had to wait tables before.
    After rudely barking out his order to the waitress while simultaneously speaking on his cell phone, he became more demanding.
    “ Can I get more ice than this?” he asked, while holding his glass up to the sun-drenched sky and peering at it through his shades.
    The harried waitress looked down at the sidewalk, breathed in heavily, and raised her eyebrows in exasperation, obviously trying hard to bite her tongue.
    “ Everything is great so far,” I piped up, embarrassed by his behavior. Our eyes met and she knew I was horrified.
    “ Thanks,” she said sweetly, then took Stephen’s glass and shot him daggers from her eyes before spinning around in irritation.
    “ You better be nicer to waiters in the future or you might find more in your drink than just ice!” I jested, but was really serious.
    He failed to see the humor in it. Needless to say, if this was how he always behaved while dining I’m sure he swallowed some spit here and there.
    After lunch, Stephen drove us to a shopping mall called the Beverly Connection, where we went into a store called the Sports Chalet. It was absolutely imperative Sarah purchase the right shoes for spin class.
    “ Sarah, you have to have that outfit! It looks fabulous on you!” Stephen proclaimed loudly in the store, relishing the attention his loud mouth brought upon him.
    “ Adam, are you