Mr. LA

My bestest girls went with me to Palm Springs last week to celebrate my 30th birthday. Yes, Palm Springs in July is VERY hot. No, we are not crazy, just frugal trying to save a few bucks by going in the off season. We had fun, we laughed and talked and ate way too much. Mostly we enjoyed free hotel AC (see I told you frugal). We gave the pool our best try, but it was hot, even the water was tepid and uncomfortable.

If you haven't been to Palm Springs in a while, or ever... try to imagine a faded, seedy, 1960's desert oasis. We stayed at Caliente Tropics, incredibly clean cute rooms. But there were two police cars in the parking lot when I arrived and they were escorting what appeared to be a crack whore (did I really just say that? I apologize) off the premises. The pool at this "resort" closed at 9 pm and even the bar on premises closed at 9 pm. Yes, I was also shocked.

On our first day there, Meredith and I put on our swimsuits, I slathered my body in sunscreen, we grabbed our gossip magazines and we made the hot trek to the pool. Almost immediately, we began to notice the eclectic grouping of people there. Most of whom had alcoholic beverages in the pool. Yes, there were spedoes and back fat in abundance. It was truly the first time in my life that I have felt like a beauty queen in my swimsuit.

We picked two lounge chairs in the two inches of shade that was available and sat back with our magazines. Then we noticed a guy walking around the pool, he was carrying a drink in one hand and was sucking in his gut so hard that I'm sure he was in pain. His light brown hair was expertly combed to cover the thinning spots. Of course, Meredith and I had to comment to each other about his "hottness." Then we (at least I) tried desperately to avoid eye contact with anyone. I some how suspect that Meredith may not have made the same effort, because before I knew what happened this guy was talking to us, and to my horror, Meredith was talking back.

He began by asking what stories were in the magazines we were reading, then he proceeded to tell us that he knows all of the real stories because HE is from LA. I think we were supposed to swoon at this. He told us about who he had seen at what parties and told us that all of the best Hollywood men are really gay and that their wives are just trophies and of course he knows this because HE is from LA! According to him, he has been at parties and seen celebrities in their element. He kept asking us to read articles to him, I was continuing to pretend he wasn't talking to us. And still to my surprise Meredith was talking to him.

At the soonest opportunity I could find, we gathered our stuff and escaped the heat. More than escaping the heat I was escaping the ridiculousness of Mr. LA, though. And for the next two days I was scared that we would run in to him again. One little chat with Mr. LA more than exceeded my cheesiness threshold. I think he may have been trying to carry on the aura of the Rat Pack that used to frequent Palm Springs, but oh boy did he ever miss the mark!