Going Down in La-La Land

by Andy Zeffer

“I’m most likely last, but not least! I’m Adam Zeller, with a Z!” I said in my peppiest voice possible and a plastic grin across my face. Sure enough the room erupted in the now very familiar chuckles and giggles.

  “You’re absolutely right; you are last on the list!” Fran shot back in an equally peppy shout as the room laughed gleefully like a cast of idiots.

  After she was finished with the rest of the list I knew far more detail about these people than I cared to know, like the guy who flew in from Sacramento for one day just to audition.

  Now it was time to take a test. It was a list of statements that you either agreed or disagreed with, similar to what’s said on the actual show. The statements ranged from “Horse racing is considered the sport of kings” to “Abraham Lincoln is the tallest U.S. president in history.” I considered myself a relatively informed individual but was stumped by a few of the more inane questions. After everyone was finished Susan and Fran left the room to go over our little pop quizzes, telling us they would be back in about ten minutes.

  Immediately everyone in the room started buzzing about what they agreed and disagreed with. There was a loudmouthed male schoolteacher behind me who had been hamming it up more than the rest of us put together. The whole time I’d been there I just wished he would shut up.

  Next to me sat a plain-Jane mom with young kids at home who really seemed to know her facts when we talked about the questions. I bet she watched the show religiously every night. She was very nice, and I hoped they’d pick her as a contestant. I could see them passing her over because she wasn’t slick or ethnic enough, or some stupid reason like that.

  Eventually fake Fran and her sickening sidekick Susan came back into the room.

  “Okay everyone. Now we are going to read out names of people who we would like to stay for the second half of the audition. We appreciate all of you coming in today.”

  Just get to it, I thought as she informed us in what length of time the rejects could audition again. She read the names off and came to a stop. My name wasn’t called out. Shit. I didn’t even make the first cut. Not only was I a career failure with no marketable job skills, but now I was a failure as a game show contestant.

  Well, I thought, I couldn’t have dressed better, behaved peppier, and wore any bigger of a grin across my now sore face. I said good luck to the sweet young mother next to me and left the room. In the elevator the rest of the rejected contestants grumbled about their crushed hopes.

  I guess I’d never be able to say out loud “I’ll start with the center window!” It would have been nice to get some cash or a new car, but this didn’t even make it near the top of my list of disappointments.

  I got in my car and checked my messages. I had two of them. I looked at the phone in irritation; I was in no mood to listen Dale carrying on in one of his drug-induced episodes.

  Sure enough the first message was him.

  “Why won’t you call . . . beep!” I erased it before I had to listen to any more.

  I was just about to do the same with second message until a soft, calm voice stopped me from hitting the delete button.

  “Hey, Adam, it’s John. I hope you’re having a good week. I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner tonight. Give me a call, let me know. I know a quiet Italian place in Studio City. I think you’d like it. Hope to hear from you.”

  The message had come in only twelve minutes earlier. Hopefully John was still around to answer his phone. I dialed his number.

  “Hello,” a voice pronounced. He answered his phone in the same boisterous manner that he performed in.

  “John, it’s Adam,” I said.

  “Hey there,” his voice lowered a bit, but betrayed a genuine excitement that I had called him back.

  “I just got your message. I’d love to go to dinner tonight.”

  “Great. Listen, do you want to swing by my place at eight, and I’ll take us to the restaurant?”

  “Sounds good.”

  “How are things going?” he asked.

  “All right,” I lied. Then I thought better of it. “Well, not really. I’ll tell you more tonight.”

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Oh, I’m fine,” I protested, trying to downplay any sense of drama. “I’m just really looking for a change of pace. Trying to clean up my life a little, you know what I mean?”

  At first I hoped I wasn’t putting him off. Fuck it, I thought. I need to be honest about who I am and where I’m at, if he can’t deal with my shit that’s his problem. He knows what I’ve been around. It’s not like we met at a dinner party.

  “I think that sounds good,” John encouraged in a chipper voice. “If you’re not happy with things, you have to work to change them. We’ll talk about it more tonight over dinner, okay?”

  “I’m looking forward to it,” I said with genuine anticipation.

  “Likewise,” John said in a low voice. “I have to get back on the set. See you tonight.”

  After saying good-bye I clicked off the phone and made my way back home. Earlier I had thought about going to the warehouse to do a little work but blew it off. I didn’t want to run into anybody that would sour my mood.

  That night I kept on the nice outfit I had worn to my unsuccessful game show audition. I showed up at John’s house a few minutes before eight. He answered the door in slacks and a button-down shirt, and smelled great in Hermes cologne.

  “Hey, handsome.” He greeted me with a kiss. I felt comfortable and at home, just as I had when I left. I felt a sensation of arousal down below as he kissed me and his body brushed against mine.

  We drove to the restaurant in his BMW coupe. We talked mostly about his day at the set.

  “So how was your day?” he asked, changing the subject.

  “Oh, all right,” I lied. There was no way I was telling him that I flopped a chance at a game show. I didn’t want the man to think I was buried up to my neck in loser dust.

  “Just all right? What did you do?” he prodded.

  “Actually, I sent out some resumés and really spent a lot of time searching the Internet for some job leads,” I lied further.

  “Really? I didn’t know you were looking for a job. What kind of position are you looking for?” he asked.

  “Oh, uh, advertising or PR, also production jobs. Maybe something with a studio or production company,” I stammered quickly.

  “Any prospects?”

  I breathed in calmly. It was annoying to talk about.

  “Not at the moment,” I said quietly.

  “So you’re not looking to stay in the adult industry?” John asked shyly.

  “No,” I answered sharply, looking out the passenger window.

  The conversation stood still for a while, until John started telling me about how much he loved the restaurant he was taking me to, and what I should order. When we got there the hostess led us to a quiet table in the corner. A few people glanced and lingered on John for a while, then went back to their conversations. I thought it brave of him to take me out in public. But it was a small place, and though I made a splash in the porn industry, there were countless porn stars in town. Chances were nil that anyone would recognize me. If anything, dressed the way I was they probably thought I was a colleague or something. Who the hell cared what they thought anyway?

  After some of the best penne a la vodka I had in long time, we went back to his place and retreated straight to the bedroom, spending much time with foreplay. The sex was great, even better than the first time. When we had finished we went out for a dip in the pool.

  “Adam, what would you think about becoming my assistant?” John asked out of the blue.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Absolutely. The girl I have now is great, but she is going back to school. And I need somebody badly. Someone to run back and forth between my agent and manager, take care of personal errands, travel, appearances, that sort of thing,” John said.

  “You’re not apprehensive about it?” I ask
ed, not believing he was offering me a job that required me to be near him on such a close basis.

  “That’s the one condition. It requires complete discretion. I have to know I can trust you, Adam. I mean, I am really doing this for a few reasons. The first is obvious, I like you a lot. I think you’re a great guy and I enjoy being around you.” He paused.

  “The second is I believe you have a lot to offer, and with this job you’ll be meeting a lot of people. People at the network, at the production company, my agency, PR people, and more. I wouldn’t expect you to work for me forever. As a matter of fact, if something came your way that was a great opportunity even after a short time I’d encourage you to go for it.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. What a difference a night makes. And it couldn’t come at a better time. I could kiss HUNG Video, Dale, Ron, Brian, and the rest of them off and get on with my life.

  “How soon can I start?” I asked.

  “I was thinking next week,” John said. “I’ll have you work with Stacy for a few days. She can introduce you to everyone and acquaint you with things that need to be done. Then she is heading home for the holidays and will start school full-time when she gets back, so the timing works out perfectly.”

  I hugged John from behind in the water, spooning up against him, and whispered in his ear, “Thanks, John.”

  As I sucked on his earlobe he whispered back, “You’re welcome, gorgeous.”

  Barely Getting Out Alive

  Within a week my life changed drastically. I informed Ron I had a new job offer the morning after my date with John.

  “You’re kidding me!” Ron said. “You have the makings of a porn superstar. You’ve already done it; you should be taking it all the way boy! Get yourself a hot Web site, put out some escort ads, make cross-country appearances. You know how many guys would want to be in your shoes?”

  The way Ron made it sound you would have thought I was turning down a full scholarship to Harvard.

  “I know you’re disappointed, Ron, but this was just a means to an end for me, an opportunity to get over hard times. I really appreciate everything you’ve done.”

  That I meant. As slimy as I thought Ron was, he was basically harmless. And after all, HUNG Video took me in when I left my job at Acclaimed Talent with nowhere else to go. If it weren’t for him, I could have landed up at Taco Bell for all I’d known.

  Though I didn’t feel like going back there, I agreed to work that end of the week in the warehouse so Ron wouldn’t fall behind on orders, and give him time to find somebody to take over. There was no shortage of him finding a broke porn star or hooker for the job. It was just a matter of finding one who wasn’t a complete mess, which sad to say was harder than it sounded. Even to do work that a ten-year-old could handle.

  My last day at the warehouse made me kind of wish I hadn’t gone back at all. But at least I knew I had closure with Dale.

  The packing tape was screeching up a storm as I raced to finish the last of the day’s shipments, going through the UPS book and slapping on bar codes like there was no tomorrow. Suddenly I heard the front door burst open outside the hallway.

  Shit, I hope that’s not Marvin, I thought in a panic. Marvin was the UPS guy, a big and tough black dude with one of the most down-to-earth dispositions out there. His pickups were always something to look forward to during rather uneventful days in the warehouse.

  “Marvin, is that you?” I said out loud without looking up.

  “Who’s Marvin? Your new boyfriend?” a familiar voice asked sarcastically.

  I looked up to see Dale leaning against the doorway. He was a mess. He looked like he had been up for ten days straight without sleep and was completely disheveled. The growth on his face had gone beyond a five o’clock shadow and had become the beginnings of a beard. His eyes were bloodshot with heavy dark circles, and he looked like he lost weight from the way his grubby T-shirt hung off of him.

  I felt my body tense up and swallowed, breathing in a bit and bracing for what was sure to be an uncomfortable conversation. He had still been calling me every day since the night of the party and I still hadn’t returned his messages, hoping he’d gotten the point.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “Hey. I came by at the beginning of the week and you weren’t around. I thought maybe you’d skipped town or something. You have a problem returning phone calls?” he said in an accusatory, even threatening tone of voice.

  “I really don’t think it’s a good idea for us to talk anymore,” I said quietly.

  “You mind telling me the fuck why?” he asked, moving forward a bit and folding his arms across his chest.

  This was going to be uglier than I thought. I could tell already.

  “Because I really don’t want to be around you when you are constantly strung out on speed. That’s why,” I said firmly, standing up straighter and trying to put on brave front, even though I was petrified. He was worse then I’d ever seen him, completely possessed by drugs. Who knew what he was capable of at that moment.

  “That sounds pretty high and mighty coming from a fucking porn actor,” he sneered, coming closer. “You need to get off your high horse. You think you’re hot shit because you’re from New York, well, you couldn’t handle New York and you’re really no better than the rest of us.”

  He knew where to hit me where it hurt.

  “Former porn actor,” I said angrily. “And you’re right, I’m far from perfect, but I know I’m a better person than to invite someone to a party and then leave them to go snort crystal meth and fuck someone else in a bedroom.”

  “Did you enjoy watching?” Dale asked accusatorily.

  “What?” I said in exasperation and anger, tossing the tape gun across the work table. “You were my fucking ride, and I was worried! Don’t try to turn this around on me!”

  “I said I was sorry!” Dale yelled, his face contorting into an ugly sob at the word “sorry.” This was getting way out of hand. “You could have returned my calls and given me a chance to apologize. I gave you a second chance.”

  “Canceling a date and what you did are two entirely different things,” I said, and then tried a different approach. “Look, Dale, I’m not angry anymore. I just don’t think we should see each other.”

  That did it. Dale kicked a stack of boxes over and yelled, “Why!”

  “Dale!” I yelled in protest. “What are you doing?”

  “Look. I fucked up, babe. I’m sorry.” Dale was now blubbering like a basket case. His emotions were so up and down he was like Patty Duke and Margot Kidder rolled into one.

  “Look, let me take you out to dinner tonight. I’ll make it up to you,” he begged.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I said.

  “Come on, babe,” he pleaded softly. By now he had moved up to the table a few feet away from me.

  “No,” I said. “I’d really feel better if you’d just leave, Dale.”

  I reached across the table for the tape gun, looking down and taping over a box, trying not to shake, waiting, just waiting for him to leave.

  A few seconds passed with him standing there. I was preparing to look up and say something when all of a sudden Dale lunged forward and shoved me with such force I fell to the ground. I hit the concrete on my right side. Luckily my shoulder and arm took the brunt of the blow, and I was able to keep my head from making contact.

  “Jesus!” I hollered.

  “You know what you are?” Dale snarled in contorted face and low voice. Then he yelled, “You’re a user! You’re a fucking brat and a user!”

  He proceeded to kick me with a hard blow, his hiking boot making contact. I yelled out in pain and scurried back on the floor.

  “A fucking brat and a fucking user!” Dale hollered over and over again in a demented voice.

  I had managed to move back enough that I could raise myself up, despite the pain on my right side where I hit the concrete and the blow where his boot hit my left thigh. The nex
t thing that happened put the fear of God in me. I felt my stomach knot up in fear as Dale grabbed a box cutter from the table and raised his hand. The end of the table I was near was shoved up against a wall close to the shelves. I couldn’t move back farther.

  “Put that fucking thing down!” I heard a voice across the room yell. “What’s wrong wit’ you man?!”

  I looked over to see Marvin, the UPS guy, making his way toward us from the door.

  “I said put the fucking knife down, motherfucker!” Marvin ordered, sounding like the scariest thug to ever come out of the hood.

  Dale was completely taken by surprise, staring at Marvin. I used the opportunity to jump over and across the table.

  “I didn’t mean anything by it, man,” Dale mumbled, then dropped his knife and backed away from the table.

  “Get the fuck outta here!” Marvin yelled even louder.

  Dale darted out the door.

  Marvin turned to me, grabbed my shoulders, and asked, “Are you all right, Adam?”

  By now I was heaving, panting heavy breaths of fear.

  “Oh God,” I stammered. “I’m so glad you showed up. He was so strung out. I’ve never seen him like that.”

  “Yeah, you don’t have to tell me man,” Marvin said with a shake of his head and look of disgust. “I know a base head when I see one. You wanna call the cops?”

  “No,” I shook my head, still in shock. “I just want to get the fuck out of here. I’m never coming back anyways.”

  “It’s cool. I hear you,” Marvin said quietly. “Just give me what boxes you got real quick. I’m gonna walk you to your car just in case that crackhead is still out there waiting to jump your ass.”

  Still shaking, I helped Marvin stack the boxes I had packed on the dolly. Fuck the rest of the shipments. Ron could take care of them himself. Marvin made sure I got in my car okay. After thanking him more than once I started the ignition and drove into the traffic.

  After driving a block, I began sobbing, sobbing harder then I could ever remember. I shuddered when I kept thinking over and over what could have happened, whether I would have just been maimed or had my throat slit. I shook and sobbed the whole way home.