Dinner with Gomez

Time to network:

Din din with Gomez at a West Hollywood Cuban chicken restaurant. Sitting in a booth with Gomez, one on one. Heebie-jeebies territory. Harry's gay-phobes bristled.

Out of nowhere Gomez asked,"Did anyone ever tell you Harry, that you have beautiful brown eyes?"

Say that again? You have beautiful brown eyes? From a guy? How do you answer that? You have beautiful skin? A noble Roman nose? Maybe just a, shall we dance? But Harry held back, this was networking. Be slick, let it slide. But fuck, You have beautiful brown eyes? From a dude? What was with this Gomez?

"..." But all Harry could really do was sit there slack-jawed.

And Gomez knew it. Look, you try. Tactless and nosy people like Gomez were always pushing it. Dumb questions, embarrassing questions, inappropriate questions, questions, questions, questions. But the askers know how to deal with it. They put up with eyes rolling, with guffaws and sneers and turned shoulders and sometimes the asking pays off. They weasel their way into the right hole. So Gomez's web of questions ultimately lead to making a pilot for NBC. But, You have beautiful brown eyes?  

 "No,  that's not what I meant, y'know. Just that you've got kind of a dangerous look."

Dangerous look?

"..." Drop this line of conversation, Gomez...Gomez...Who names a kid Gomez? Born into insanity. But this was still networking, working behind a veneer of phoniness. Store the barb in the bin of nasty thoughts.

"Like maybe you should do acting instead of writing?"

Harry sighed. Make this conversation go away. Why do people always say such stupid things? A good time to take a vow of silence. Count to ten and suck it in. Network, Harry. Be an adult.

"I did some acting in college. Majored in theater actually." Beautiful eyes? Fucking guy.

"Why'd you stop?"

"Choked...Literally, on stage during a production of Waiting For Godot..Long story but I can't get on a stage anymore..."

Choke-head Revisited. An omen for the Fate of the Flunkers which in any case, does not apply when residing in L.A.. At least according to Harry.

"Well, the camera's not a stage..."

It is for me, Gomer. "Look, I can't, I just can't. I have no desire to act." Which was anything but true. Harry hungered for the spotlight, any kind, any way, but he lost his nerve and didn't have many left.

"Okay, okay. Just asking. In case we go into more casting for the series if it get's picked up."

Ding ding ding. Be nice, Harry. Remember, Gomez is a connection. Networking is about making connections. About browning your nose. Should've been a radiologist. No need to network. Memorize shit from textbooks. Get your degree and laugh all the way to the bank. What was there to that whole gig? A radiologist? Take some pics? Identify a tumor. Send the poor sap to a doctor to get poked and prodded. What was so hard about that? 

"I like writing because you don't feel so exposed. Like there's something so pathetic about acting, so, 'Look at me, look at me!' Like a neglected child."

"True, actors are mostly a bunch of morons. Now I've got Wenzday Wilson threatening to walk if he doesn't get a personal masseuse on the set. Like fuck, we 're no even close to a green light...But more important, how's life with Wendy?"

First tell me if you really ever dated her, Gomez. 

"She just adopted three cats. Shared a joint with her last night and she coughed up a fur ball."

Gomez cracked up. "Seriously?"

"Yeah." Which was an embellishment, as are all stories. Did Adam live to 930, or maybe just 200 and change? Did Noah bring on board two of every species on earth, or maybe just a hundred thousand or so? The world is an embellishment.

"And she's got this daschund -- German shepherd mix that's got the daschund's body but the shepherd's balls. Looks like it has an udder, fucking dragging those huge balls along the ground." Gross exaggeration, maybe? But man, that mutt had disgustingly big balls.

"You mean Bugsy?"

"I mean Ripleys Believe It or Not. Wendy's place is a fucking freak show."

"Welcome to California, my friend. It's all one big freak show. So how's your room?"

"Okay if  I never leave it. Yesterday I walked into the kitchen and there was an inch-thick line of army ants running from the garden into a discarded pizza box on the kitchen counter..."

Gomez gagged. "I hope it's not the same one from last week..."

"Here's something else to gag about. I kind of had a thing with her the first day."

Gomez sang, "Everyone loves Wendy," but was worried that she exposed him. They were only friends, just friends. "You didn't!"

"More like she did me. Bad mistake. Won't happen again. She smells like a pet shop, but does have a pretty hot body."

Gomez knew that it was a good time to change the subject. Like all bullshitters, he was used to changing subjects. "So did Mike Winikoff read your Feldman script?"

"I think he's on it now. I'm actually supposed to call him back tomorrow."

"Follow up with him. It could be your break, Harry. L.A. is all about connections."

And that worried Harry. Connections.