We are sitting street-side in a night club patio, tropical drinks in hand while the West Hollywood moon peeks through swaying palm trees. A Latin beat thumps in the background as I notice Paul’s gaze shift from me to somewhere in the middle distance. There is a look of wanton desire in his eyes as evidenced by his dark saucer-like pupils. It is reflexive, primal.
“See something you like?” I say bitterly.
“I’m sorry sweetie, I just couldn’t help myself.”
How could I blame him? We are surrounded by them as they parade down the street showing off their strong bodies, detailed impeccably. Here is a young sleek one. Here is a powerful muscular one that cruises like a predator decked out in leather. Every time they pass he checks out their rear end. It is a disgusting display of obsession.
“That one is a Rolls Royce Phantom, $400,000, forgive me I just can’t help myself.” He says.
“You might want to wipe up that drool.” I say while turning my head, marveling at the disparity between the haves and have-nots that exist within the space of one hundred feet here on Santa Monica Boulevard. While he salivates over Aston-Martins, and Bentley Continentals, I can’t take my eyes off of these poor boys that have spent all of their money on gym memberships and nutritional supplements, leaving scant resources for clothing. Indeed, some of them have only enough funds for one article of clothing, skimpy underwear. But they dance, God bless them, living in the now.
“He needs to eat, give him something.” Paul says knowing that it is not in my nature to ignore anyone in need.
“But he’ll only spend it on a nipple piercing, a strategically placed tattoo or steroids.” I offer up the oft-cited argument.
I will do it dammit! I will ignore my doubts that he will spend the money foolishly and provide him with enough funds to buy a cheeseburger so that he may not be embarrassed by his six percent body fat that barely covers his rippling abdomen muscles. My heart is like the shining beacon of truth that is the Hollywood sign in the distance.
“There, there my good man, no one will take your money.” I say magnanimously.
He flashes a grateful smile, ridiculously perfect and white, hugs me and then sadly, flexes his biceps for me as if to say I will spend this money on more steroids. But I don’t care. I have selflessly practiced a random act of kindness. There was nothing in it for me. The universe will respond.
When I was in California I had the pleasure to meet the following three blogger award winners. Come on down! Run down the aisle while the camera focuses on all of your jiggling awesomeness. The Price is right:It's all about me
1. I was married to a woman for twenty two years and to a man, a wonderful, sexy, patient, car obsessed man for two years now. This makes me uniquely qualified to bestow my marital advice to anyone and everyone. And I'd like to start with Mr. Santorum.2. The first time I gave a go-go boy some cheeseburger money, he fell off the bar and on top of me. I developed a rare but documented fear called Twink-a-fall-a-phobia. Paul's response? “Thank goodness it wasn’t a big ol’ bear bar.” I am happy to report that I am recovering through intense immersion therapy.3. I have body issues. When you grow up hating what is on the inside, it’s only a matter of time before you project it to the outside. I am working through this and now I can say that I think my rack is pretty awesome. They’re real and they’re spectacular!4. When I take a piece of clothing off of a hanger, I have to place the empty hanger in another spot with all of the other empty hangers. If they are mixed, Earth will explode.5. Suck it Jesus! (That’s a Kathy Griffin reference, don’t get up in arms, all of my hoards of religious right readers)
Becca at I’m Pretty Sure That: When Becca enters the room, she brings the sun with her. Her smile and laugh could warm Jack Frost’s heart. She is lovely. If I were single and straight, I would marry her. Her blog is snarky, tearful, personal and her recount of overheard conversations hilarious. .
Elizabeth at Flourish in Progress: When Elizabeth enters the room, she brings the moon; mysterious, beautiful beyond imagination she walks in beauty like the night. Her blog is wildly popular, hilarious and got it’s start from taking a year off from shopping. She was inspired by the Happiness Project and now she inspires countless minions weekly with her Monday Dares. Don’t drink anything when you read her blog, or it will come out of your nose when you guffaw.
Jim at A Southerner in San Francisco: Jim is a handsome star that seems to have discovered the fountain of youth. (Seriously Jim, give me your secret). Could it be his diet of southern fried delicacies like fried lasagna, Krispy Kreme doughnuts and Cheerwine? Check out his blog to find out. His posts are near and dear to my heart because he hails from my hometown of Greensboro, North Carolina and lives in my adopted home town of San Francisco. He weaves the two together beautifully.
And so I have practiced yet another random act of kindness by giving you, my readers, the sun, the moon and the stars, with a generous side of go-go boys.
I bet the universe responds big time!