I double dated with a smart, gorgeous girlfriend. She set it up. Definitely out of my comfort zone, which was a good thing.
It was actually pretty funny, because I'd had a meeting with my therapist that day and he was drilling in all the characteristics I should be looking for. One of the big points he made was that I wouldn't like an impossibly handsome guy in a Rolex and Armani suit. Sure enough, BOTH the guys...
But still, a very cool experience. They were gorgeous Italian men. The older one owns the famously trendy restaurant we were in, along with a dozen other famous clubs and restaurants in Los Angeles that young hollywood attend. They were crushed that we barely recognized the names of the places, but we're both intellectual screenwriting gal Fridays.
It was interesting to be waited on hand and foot, order anything I wanted, and have the whole restaurant staring at us or coming over to our table. Not my cup of tea, but as a writer and occasional actor I was game to try it on for the experience.
I seemed to fit in fine. Genetics. The Jewish blue blood started circulating through my veins again. I received a half dozen compliments on my delicious Nanette Lepore dress, and a group of gentleman grabbed my arm on the way out and told me I was beautiful. I don't think they were trying to poach me, they just wanted me to know. Nice.
It was also helpful to watch Dana's behavior, because she's accustomed to these situations as an upperclass New Yorker. She was expert at deflecting the male attention at the end of the evening, and expected to be treated like a lady who owed nothing. She also happened to be allergic to fish in a sushi restaurant, so it was fascinating to watch the men rack their brains with ways to please her. They were crushed she couldn't enjoy the finest sushi in Los Angeles. I felt bad for them. They would have impressed the heck out of the right young ladies. We were appreciative, but not impressed. We're both conversationalists, so the endless expensive wine bottles needed to be accompanied by overflowing wit. But I was hysterical. I was cracking myself up, muttering unappreciated Dorothy Parker-esque words into my martini and wine glasses. At one point I had three full glasses sitting in front of my plate. Unreal.
The datees were definitely good contacts to make. It will be interesting to see if the non-restauranteer really helps me with his connection to the distributor I want.
It's all nice, but again these aren't my people or my value system. I like listening to brilliant people talk, or going to cultural events, or beer and pizza with a DVD. But now I know exactly what I want on the menu, so I can go in at an empty happy hour sometime and enjoy the orgasmic food. One of the sushi rolls haunts me...