Yesterday I went to the mall to have lunch and it was packed. There were no tables anywhere so I made a big move: I asked if I could sit down with some old guy eating by himself.
The old me never would have done this in a million years. I would have just taken my sushi back to the office. But I was hungry and I wasn’t going to eat standing up.
Naturally, I starting talking to the guy. He was a lawyer, one of the founding partners of a medium sized firm in Century City. He’s retired now, but still goes into the office just to “keep an eye on things.” We got to talking and I told him about Scott and the TV. Not exactly asking for a legal opinion, just wondering what he thought I should do.
And the guy said, “Let it go.” I couldn’t believe that was his advice, but he gave me a whole speech about life being too short, how litigation makes you tired, etc.
So I guess maybe I’ll just let it go.
Paul and I went to the new mall in Santa Monica on Sunday. I don’t know what the big deal about a new mall is but there were about three million people there.
I mean, it’s nice, but it’s not like Justin Bieber was performing.
Anyway, a guy asked for directions to the CPK and I tried to explain it to him but it was pretty loud in there, so I said I’d just show him. Being a people person, I struck up a conversation. He was from Minnesota, in town for Labor Day weekend, visiting with his boyfriend. Boyfriend? Hello! I was suddenly super interested in being his friend.
Now I am friendly with lots of gay people but I don’t really have any gay friends. I felt like such a loser for being so excited about meeting him, but I swear bagging a gay friend seemed like nailing a supermodel.
I know. It’s 2010. Who cares? But let’s be real. I do. Maybe I am buying into the stereotype that he would have good taste or something. That him accepting me as a friend means I passed some sort of big coolness test. Like I’ve been admitted into an elite club. This whole thing was pretty embarrassing to admit to myself but I was totally into being this guy’s friend.
Paul looked at me like I was crazy but he knows the Project and he must be used to me doing weird shit by now. When we got to CPK, I invited myself to have lunch with them. The four of us hung out, had pizza, exchanged info, and went our separate ways. Michael (the gay guy) said that people in L.A. were the nicest people he’s ever met. I said, “Yeah, we’re all really friendly here.”