"Irwin?"
"Yeah, Gretta's pug."
"No wonder. Irwin probably wishes he were a collie, a good-looking breed."
"Well I think pugs are cute. And so does Gretta. She wants me to talk to him."
"Who are you, Dr. Doolittle?"
"I understand dogs, I have six of them, remember?"
"I remember stepping in some crap this morning."
Wendy blushed and giggled nervously.
"Make all the jokes you want, Harry, but I've healed a lot of dogs."
Hence the dinner invitation to the Sheza, Amazon Warrior star, Gretta Bismarck's house. But it was a stretch. And while Harry agreed to go along as Wendy's date, he wasn't convinced that it all wasn't but a ruse to go out with him. Wendy told fantastical tales all the times. Yesterday she claimed Bill Clinton pardoned her father, the week before she confessed to sleeping with O.J., and before that something about a PhD in Astro Psychology -- (whatever that was) -- from "somewhere in Europe."
In any case, Harry brought along a copy of his Feldman spec script just in case, not that he could imagine himself writing for an audience of love-starved humpy adolescents and middle-aged postmen still living with their mothers. Where was the dignity in writing for a show like that? Meanwhile if Wendy told him at the last minute that Gretta cancelled, and that they might as well go for dinner once they were already out, he wouldn't be surprised.
"Gretta is mad about her pets. Mad, mad."
In any case, Harry brought along a copy of his Feldman spec script just in case, not that he could imagine himself writing for an audience of love-starved humpy adolescents and middle-aged postmen still living with their mothers. Where was the dignity in writing for a show like that? Meanwhile if Wendy told him at the last minute that Gretta cancelled, and that they might as well go for dinner once they were already out, he wouldn't be surprised.
"Gretta is mad about her pets. Mad, mad."
"Madder than you?" Harry blurted.
"Way. She hired this guy just to take care of this parrot aviary she built inside her house. She thinks it inspires her for her part."
"Madder than you."
"Haaaarry. You're so mean." Wendy giggled.
Harry scanned Wendy while she drove. "Rather tasty when she gets dressed up and out of her kennel. Cute face, tight little body." Harry thought. He sniffed the air. "Perfume! Eau de kennel?"
"You are such an asshole, Harry...Why do I love bad boys?"
That was a strange remark to hear, Harry never thought of himself as anything remotely near a bad boy like One-Ball Spiegel, Mr. Matricide," or Kenny Frick who dipped a finger or two inside Tracey Gordon's jeans in the back of the 292 bus. That stuff was bad.
"Just watch what you say around Gretta. She's actually quite educated and sophisticated, I think she has a Masters degree in Art History. There's nothing Hollywood star about her or her new boyfriend, this British billionaire guy, Chester Goodfriend, who's kind of a Lord or something."
"Do you mean Chester Goodfriend, heir to the Goodfriend cosmetics empire?"
Harry ears pricked up. Bullshit or should he be impressed?
"Yeah, that's him. After his family bought the studio, Chester started hanging out on the set. Now they're kind of together. So be on your best behavior, Harry."
Harry felt like a shit for all his disparaging thoughts and remarks about Wendy. Take her outside of her kennel and she was actually pretty cool. And upon reflection, Harry realized that this could be a Big Night. Dinner with a legitimate TV star, albeit cable and cultish, and her billionaire boyfriend who owned a studio.
"We're almost there now, Harry. She lives next door to the pink villa with the turquoise statue of Zeus and Apollo at the entrance."
"So where's our sad little Amos?" Wendy asked Gretta after the round of greetings and introductions. Instinctively Harry clutched his cell phone to call Finkie...then he let go. He pained for his fallen comrade. How much better this surreal Hollywood moment would have been with Finkie.
"He's lying there in front of the aviary. All he does is lie there, watching the parrots all day," Trudy said.
Harry was adjusting to the normality of the situation. Someone just talking about their pet. Didn't seem like a TV star, could be just another attractive brunette who goes to the gym a lot. She also seemed a lot smaller and thinner than she appeared on TV. And Chester the lanky, fair-haired billionaire heir, reminded Harry of an unassuming college professor. Over the top, but ultimately nothing more than a get together with a couple of new friends.
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