hollywood

In Paris, society people unironically dress for dinner, go to cocktail parties (where the hostess has an obvious drinking problem), dine with Catholic Bishops, industrialists, politicians and occasional celebrities (usually for charity) in places dripping with atmosphere. I met this famous actor once (July 2019, pre-covid, I was 15), at one of these summer parties in Paris. He was probably in his early forties (an impression, I didn’t look it up). Shall we wax poetic? It was sunset - almost 10PM in Paris. The last rose-blush of sunset was in the west. I was leaning on a wrought iron balustrade, of a 4th floor terrace, in the center of the city proper. The Seine still shimmered, with diaphanous emerald flecks, and the air was heady with the perfume of jasmine and Nuxe oil. Behind me, beyond the French doors and filigreed silk drapes that fluttered like angel wings, a cocktail party was happening. I could hear the tinkling of glass, laughter and conversation. A couple, across the way, were wrapped together as if for warmth and they communicated in the language of lingering touch and gazes that delved and explored. I smiled, embarrassed, and looked away. Ok, snap out of it. He came out on the terrace alone, as if he was looking for a breath of air and stopped at the railing about three feet away from me. After a minute, he turned, as if I’d suddenly appeared, and introduced himself. When we shook hands, his felt like silk. Anyway, we’d chatted for under a minute - I was jabbering about how I’d loved the Bourne movies - I was trying to sound interesting - when he leaned in and whispered, “What would you do if I kissed you right now?” I was flabbergasted and I think I looked around to see if he was talking to me. Sometimes life offers simple choices. I grimaced, shook my head ‘no,’ and at first, I backed away, then I turned and hustled back to the party. I think he chuckled. I saw him some time later, chatting up a model-looking woman. I told Charles about it after the party and he said, “Huh - No kidding?” Then he shrugged, and said, “Hollywood.” This isn’t some sobbing “me too’ story. I wasn’t traumatized. It’s a tale of entitled male tomfoolery. Maybe I looked older in a certain light? A humorous ‘growing up’ story I get to share with friends - and now with all 8 of my readers. . . Songs for this: Hurricane Waters by by Citizen Cope Beautiful Trash by Lanu & Meg Washington Quero Te a Sambar by Tape Five