A Total Waste of Makeup

by Gruenenfelder, Kim

  Don’t talk to new guys after one A.M. If he hasn’t made the move before then, he’s out.

  Don’t go for the cutest guy in the room. If he says he doesn’t have a girlfriend, he’s lying. Or gay.

  And finally:

  Advice is like a sandwich. If you know someone is hungry, you can offer them a sandwich. They may even ask for a sandwich. But if you put the sandwich in front of them, and they don’t eat it, there’s nothing you can do. You can’t force someone to eat a sandwich.

  I say this because, within one minute—one minute!—a gorgeous man is waving to Kate from across the room.

  Kate smiles and waves back.

  Dawn pushes down Kate’s hand. “What did we just tell you about the cutest guy in the room?”

  “But I know him. That’s Mike. He’s one of the other hosts at the station.”

  Dawn and I stare at the gorgeous man across the bar. “That is not a face for radio,” Dawn says, and I shake my head up and down in agreement.

  Kate hops off her bar seat. “You guys are so silly. It’s just Mike,” she says, then leaves us.

  We watch as she gives the blond Adonis a hug. “She’s in here two minutes, and does better than we do in two years,” I say, only half jokingly.

  “I can only take solace in the fact that, on the inside, she’s shattered and heartbroken right now,” Dawn says sarcastically.

  We watch Mike smile, and kiss Kate on the cheek. “Right,” I concur.

  “Can I buy you ladies a drink?” Drew says from behind me.

  “I’m afraid we’re waiting for someone,” Dawn answers, staring right at him, her voice dripping with irritation.

  “Dawn!” I exclaim, and quickly turn around to apologize for my friend’s rudeness. Standing before me is a new, less improved version of Drew. He looks awful. “What did you do…to your face?” I ask gently, trying not to sound too horrified.

  “You like it?” Drew says proudly. “I had Vic do it.”

  Vic is Drew’s makeup artist, and he has made Drew up to look like he has a large, broken nose and a double chin. Drew doesn’t look bad, he just kind of looks…normal. But for Drew, that’s awful. Dawn squints her eyes, and juts her chin forward, trying to get a better look at him. “It is you. Why the hell did you do that to yourself?”

  “Well, I figure this way, we can do whatever we want tonight, and no one will care. No one will ask for my autograph, no one will try to buy me a drink, or try to get some personal information out of me that they can sell to the National Enquirer, no one will hit on me…”

  “You got that right,” Dawn exclaims, looking disgusted. “You go wash yourself up, boy.”

  “No,” Drew insists. “I want to be a normal person tonight. This way I can be.”

  Bob the bartender comes up to Drew, now sitting in Kate’s seat, and asks him, “Can I get you anything?”

  “Yes. Get me a shot of Maker’s Mark followed by a Sam Adams chaser.”

  Bob stares at Drew quizzically. “Have I served you before?”

  Drew fidgets in his seat nervously. “I don’t think so.”

  Bob tilts his head, thinking, “You look really familiar. Did we audition together?” He snaps his fingers and smiles. “That’s where I know you. You auditioned for the Budweiser ad, didn’t you?”

  Drew immediately covers himself. “Wow. I did. You have a great memory.”

  “Sure. You’re the guy who kind of looks like Drew Stanton. What’s your name again?”

  “Ken,” Drew says, putting out his hand for a handshake.

  Bob shakes his hand. “Ken. I never forget a face. Hey, you know my friend said he saw Drew Stanton a few weeks ago over at Revolver.”

  “I’ve never been…” Drew starts to say, but stops himself. “Isn’t that a gay bar?”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m pretty sure he’s gay. I heard he broke up Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman.”

  Before Drew can refute that statement, one of the women bartenders says, “That’s not true!” in a tone to let Bob know she thinks that’s the stupidest thing she’s ever heard. “My friend Cheryl says he’s quietly been dating Bruce Willis for about a year.”

  “Bruce Willis?!” Drew snaps his head around to her, as I whisper, “Don’t go there. No one knows who you are. Remember?”

  Drew turns to me and whispers back indignantly, “If I were gay, I could do a hell of a lot better than Bruce Willis.”

  Dawn bursts out laughing. “I like you,” she says to Drew. “You crack me up.”

  Drew smiles, and all is forgiven with the bartenders.

  “Let me get you that drink, Ken,” Bob says. “Do you want to start a tab?”

  “I do,” says Doug, joining us. “It’s all on me tonight. I’d like a Bass, please.”

  As Doug puts down his credit card, I suddenly remember how handsome he is. His hair is looking a little less gelled tonight, and he’s in jeans and a nice T-shirt. And those eyes—they look like clear emeralds.

  As Bob hands Doug his beer, I say, “Weren’t you guys supposed to be coming later this evening?”

  “What can I say?” Doug says, shrugging sheepishly. “When I see something I want, I have a problem waiting for it.”

  So charming. I sigh. I want to kiss him hello. I am suddenly remembering that kiss Thursday night. It was a nice kiss. His lips slowly parting, not too much tongue right off the bat, him smelling like a cookie…

  “Are you going to ride the bull tonight?” Doug asks, jolting me out of my daydream.

  “Excuse me?” I’ve never heard it put quite that way before.

  Doug jerks his head toward the mechanical bull. “Nothing sexier than a woman riding a bucking bull,” he says seductively.

  “Baby, if you think that, we got to get you to some strip clubs,” Dawn says in her “I’m so over you” voice, and takes a sip of her Long Island Iced Tea.

  I laugh a little too loud in front of Doug, then turn to Dawn and mutter under my breath, “Knock it off.”

  She mutters back, “I’m sorry, but why doesn’t he just open with ‘I’m looking for a slut with skills?’”

  “Back o-off…,” I say in a quiet, lilting voice.

  Doug laughs and says, “No, she’s right. That line might have been a little weak.”

  Dawn raises her glass to him, they toast, and a truce has been forged. Doug turns to me. “So what’s your best line?”

  I think for a minute, and smile. “Hi, I’m Charlie. Do you want to go outside and make out?”

  Doug laughs, and Drew stares at me. “Have you ever said that to a guy?”

  “No,” I admit. “But it’s still my best line.” I turn to Doug. “What’s your best line?”

  Doug takes a moment to think about it. “Well, it has to be said a little while into the evening…But I think it has to be, ‘So, Charlie, what are we going to name our children?’”

  I roll my eyes and smile. “How drunk does the girl have to be for that to work?”

  Doug chuckles. “Oh, she not only has to be wasted out of her mind, but we have to be at a wedding.” He looks over at Drew. “What about you, Drew?”

  “It’s Ken,” Drew reminds him. “Drew’s evil twin brother with the double chin.”

  “Sorry…Ken,” Doug corrects himself.

  Drew looks over at Dawn, clearly debating whether he really wants to give her his best line. He smiles. “Hi. I’m Drew Stanton.”

  Dawn and I both groan in disgust as Drew defends himself. “Hey, I’m telling you, nine times out of ten, it works. Women have an image of me that has nothing to do with who I really am, and whether they like me or not has nothing to do with who I really am. I might as well use it to my advantage.”

  Dawn and I groan again.

  “And I’ll tell you something else—I am just like every other guy out there. You want us or you don’t want us based on what you imagine us to be. It has nothing to do with who we really are. At least not at first.”

  I have to say, that gives both Dawn and
me pause. He’s right. I mean, how many first dates have we all gone on hoping we’ve found our Prince Charming? Assuming he’ll be nice to us, assuming he wants a relationship. Hell, just assuming he doesn’t have some girlfriend he’s cheating on that night. It really has nothing to do with the guy du jour. It has nothing to do with a real relationship that might be forged in the future. It’s all about what’s going on in our heads at that moment.

  Knowing this, I vow to forget about Jordan, and focus all of my attention on the man who has shown interest in me. In the man who wanted a date with me. In the man who kissed me.

  Drew stares at his beer mug, tapping the rim of it nervously. “So…Dawn…what’s your best opening line?”

  Dawn doesn’t miss a beat. As Drew takes a sip of his beer, she looks him right in the eye with her most seductive look and says, “Honey, I’d like to ride you like a Harley on a bad stretch of road.”

  Drew chokes on his drink, nearly spitting it on her, and she gives him a self-satisfied smile.

  Our next few hours were a haze of drinking, bull riding, and more drinking. Kate quietly sat in a corner, lovingly staring into Mike’s eyes all night. The rest of us were not so quiet.

  Knowing that I had a limo for the night, the boys quickly switched from beer to well drinks, downing giant glasses of drinks with names like “Texas Tea.” And all of us were doing complimentary shots with the bartenders all night. The drinks seemed to have loosened both men up. (Or maybe it loosened Dawn and me up. Does it really matter?)

  Doug made me laugh all night. Now that he was rip-roaring drunk, he wasn’t nearly as pretentious as he had been during the dinner party.

  Right now, Drew is in line to ride the bull, and Dawn is with him to cheer him on. Doug and I are “guarding their seats,” sneaking some kisses, and talking.

  “You really are cute tonight,” Doug says, leaning in to me like he’s going to kiss me.

  “You’re pretty cute yourself,” I say, blushing and returning the compliment.

  Doug comes back with, “Not as cute as you.”

  Isn’t it truly amazing what passes for conversation when the two people involved are still at that Oh my God, our knees are almost touching! phase? Soon, we’ll graduate to “You hang up first…no, you…no, you…”

  Doug leans in for a kiss and the two of us start making out like teenagers. He breaks from the kiss just long enough to say, “You are the best kisser.”

  “Only because I have such a good partner.”

  Yes—it’s a marriage of the minds at this stage. Doug begins nibbling my ear, and I’m so turned on, I’m pretty much ready to jump him right here and now, and give everyone a show on this bar.

  Suddenly next to me, I hear, “Doug?”

  Startled, I jerk my head back and whip it around to a fifty-something man in jeans, looking a little out of place. Doug turns to him and, smooth as silk, shakes his hand. “Jeff. Good to see you. What brings you here?”

  The older gentleman sighs. “Oh, my girlfriend wanted to come, and I can’t say no to her. We’re actually leaving soon, but I wanted to stop by and say hi.”

  “Well it’s good to see you out of the office,” Doug says, a little too slickly, then introduces me. “This is my girlfriend Charlie.”

  “How do you do?” I say, not responding at all to the girlfriend comment.

  “Jeff Caraway.”

  “Oh,” I say pleasantly, recognizing the name immediately.

  “Jeff owns the company I work for,” Doug says, although he really didn’t need to tell me that. Jeff Caraway is one of the biggest behind-the-scenes names in Hollywood.

  “Charlie works for Drew Stanton,” Doug says.

  “Oh, I know Drew,” Caraway says, although I have a feeling “know” is a relative term. “Good guy.” Caraway pats Doug twice on the shoulder, and says, “I should get back to my lady. Nice to meet you, Charlie.”

  “You, too,” I say politely.

  Caraway walks back to “his lady,” a little embryo of a thing, and Doug turns to me, embarrassed.

  “Girlfriend, huh?” I say flirtatiously.

  He shrugs. “What, you don’t think so?”

  “Well…” I smile, and actually blush. “I don’t know…,” I say, my voice trailing off.

  I look to the ground, then look away. I can’t actually face him, because then that would be admitting I’m into him. (I can just hear my mother in my head sarcastically saying, “God forbid he should know that.”)

  And if I look into his eyes, all I will want to do is kiss him.

  So I do.

  And I’m interrupted again.

  “Charlie,” I hear Kate say in an apologetic tone.

  I quickly stop kissing Doug to see Kate holding hands with Mike. “We’re gonna take off.”

  “You’re what? No, no, no…”

  Could I have been more subtle?

  Kate yawns. “Look, you guys are having a great time, and I don’t want to spoil it, but I’m exhausted, and I need to go to sleep. Mike’s offered to give me a ride home.”

  I’ll just bet he has.

  “Will you excuse us for a moment?” I ask Mike and Doug, then grab Kate’s hand and pull her out of their hearing range. “What are you doing?”

  “Going home.”

  “Alone?” I ask.

  “No. Wasn’t that the whole point of the evening?” Kate asks back.

  “No. The point was to have a night of female bonding with your friends.”

  “Which is why you’re making out with a guy right now, instead of talking to me?” Kate asks sarcastically.

  I look over her shoulder at the two men. “You make a good point. I’m a shitty friend. Let me grab Dawn, we’ll say good-bye to the guys, and I’ll take you home.”

  Kate laughs. “Why? So we can all leave the men we like in the name of female bonding?”

  “Yeaaahhh…,” I say in a tone of “ddduuuuhhhh…”

  Then I think about it. “Well, that does sound kind of stupid when you say it like that,” I say to Kate.

  Kate kisses me on the cheek. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  And she walks back to Mike, takes his hand, and walks out the door.

  Is it just me, or does she seem to be taking this whole breakup thing too well?

  Thirteen

  Don’t drink and drive.

  Limos are the best thing ever! At two o’clock in the morning, Drew, Doug, Dawn, and I piled into the limo, and debated what to do next.

  “I vote for Canter’s!” I say, referring to the famous old deli on Fairfax.

  “Why?” says Drew.

  “Because they have food there,” I point out.

  Dawn has already pulled a bottle of champagne from the cooler in the back, and as she pops the cork, Doug pulls out glasses. “I say we go to my place,” Doug says, then looks at me and winks. “I have food there, too.”

  “You’re a guy who works sixty hours a week,” I say. “How do I know you really have food there?”

  Doug smiles as he hands me a glass of champagne. “I happen to be a very good cook. Name a dish—I’ll make it.”

  I look up to the ceiling and pucker up my lips, thinking. Finally I come up with, “A triple decker ham and swiss, on rye, mustard only, no mayo.”

  Dawn rolls her eyes, and hands Drew a glass of champagne. “You’re just saying that because you want to go to Canter’s.”

  I smile at her, as Drew gives another suggestion, “Caviar—beluga. Toast points. Cold potatoes. And a dollop of crème fraiche.” We all stare at Drew. “My house. It’s all set up in the fridge.”

  I look at Doug, and he’s got that, God, I want to kiss you so much right now look on his face.

  So I bail on the Canter’s idea. “All right,” I tell Drew. “But you two go. I think I’m going to take Doug up on that cooking for me idea.”

  I dip my chin down, bite my lip slightly, and give Doug my best innocent girl look.

  We
ll, as innocent as a girl can look who’s almost thirty, wasted, and going to a man’s apartment at two A.M.

  Dawn opens her eyes wide and stares at me. I’m not sure if it’s disapproval of me going home with Doug, or of me leaving her with Drew. “Charlie, why don’t you come with us?”

  Drew takes the moment to put his arm around Dawn and nuzzle her neck. “What? Don’t you trust me alone with you?”

  And I could have sworn I saw Dawn fidget like a schoolgirl with a huge crush on the captain of the football team. “Of course,” she says to Drew, smiling and turning her head toward him as he nuzzles her neck. “It’s just that I don’t want to be rude.”

  “They’re dumping us. We’re not dumping them,” Drew points out. “Besides, I promise to be a gentleman.”

  Dawn squints her eyes at him suspiciously. He smiles. “Seriously,” he says. “I have three guest rooms, and you can wear a pair of my pajamas. I just don’t want to say good night yet.”

  Weird. I can tell he’s telling the truth. They’re not going to do anything tonight. Drew, who could pretty much have sex with any woman he wants tonight, wants to not have sex with Dawn.

  I’ve got to admit, there’s a little part of me that’s jealous of that.

  Don’t do anything in your life just to get someone else’s approval. Yours is the only one that matters.

  By the time we drop Drew and Dawn off twenty minutes later, I am determined not to sleep with Doug tonight. I don’t care how great he is—I am going to feel terrible about myself tomorrow morning if I do sleep with him.

  Doug and I wave good-bye to Drew and Dawn, Dawn makes plans with me for tomorrow night, and the driver closes our door.

  The second the door is closed, Doug leans over to me and whispers, “I missed you.” And he gives me the most dreamy kiss. I mean, dreamy—that is the only way to describe it. He is a wonderful kisser. We kiss until we hear the driver open and close his door, and then wait until he lowers the partition.

  “Where to, ma’am?”

  “Uh…” I shrug, looking at Doug for directions.

  “100 Ocean Avenue,” Doug tells him. “But first we need to make a stop. Can you take us to the Ralph’s on Bundy and Wilshire?”