Doing The Fool Pt. 2
It’s my birthday and I’ll stop this party bus(in the middle of Sunset Boulevard) if I want to.
Be kind; let’s rewind… If you aren’t up to speed please see Doing The Fool Pt. 1.
The next destination was set. The wheels were in motion. Goodies by, Ciara, was playing at volume 10 million, and all I could hear was, “I think I’m with the Russian Mafia…” reverberating in my ears. I stood frozen looking out the front windshield. This was not the 20th birthday I expected, but there I was. Being used to handling the drama and deescalating situations there were options, but I knew I needed to sit down for a decision. This was no time to be in shock so I gathered myself. Cell phone to ear and stumbled through the usual suspects who had returned back to the bash. I found an open seat and weighed my options:
Option 1. Don’t respond and hang up.
Option 2. Pass the phone to someone else.
Option 3. Break-the-glass and rescue, micro-mini.
All of these options had been executed before…except option 3. Was this the day to break-the-glass or in this case break Rule Number 5? The rules were my social lifeline at the time and the lifeline of the usual suspects, as well. It had never been broken. I decided to continued the conversation. The muffled voice from, micro-mini, that followed I cannot remember or I blocked it out of my memory for self preservation. I’m only human. Either way, the discovery that she actually was in a car with the Russian Mafia changed everything. The occasional missing person on a night out was always recovered, but this was different… It seemed breaking Rule Number 5 was the only way, but my most fun and treasured pastime at the moment was in Jeopardy. I’ll take, “What is a catch 22 for $800 Alex.”
What happened next caused a ripple affect. I stood straight up and shouted into the cell phone, “Where are you?!” <PAUSE> When I stand and shout(which isn’t often) it usually doesn’t mean anything good and the usual suspects knew that. As fast as the shouting began the usual suspects amnesia of, micro-mini, was expunged. Some wanted to be involved and some didn’t. The clamoring of F-bombs and not so nice name calling that followed I cannot divulge. After some time we had reached a tipping point when a shot of alcohol was suggested before any decision was made. This was widely accepted and appreciated. We made sure to look each other in the eyes. After all it was “the eye of the storm.” While taking the shot the driver calmly said, “So…what are we going to do?” He was hired for the night and didn’t care where we went, but turning a party bus around once you start into the Hollywood Hills is not preferred. I had to make a decision and I had to do it fast.
It was time to break Rule Number 5. I put the phone to my ear and said, “Give the phone to…” but before I could finish I heard, micro-mini’s, muffled voice say, “I think I see the bus out the back window. I’m gonna make a break for it.” On the other end I heard a door pop open followed by a scream and then the phone hung up before I could say anything back.
STOP! The bus had been moving this entire time but we were still on Sunset Boulevard. Traffic. I ran to the front and urged the driver to stop right were we were immediately. A resounding WHAT? beamed on me through the eyes on everyone in attendance. Stopping a party bus in the middle of Sunset Boulevard is a recipe for disaster. Had I lost my mind? Was the rest of the night about to be ruined? Was I was going to pass out from a panic attack? Any and all of the above were possible. I looked out the front windshield and nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.
In the distance, a reincarnation of a treasured game from our youth was taking place in real time. A white micro-mini dress with matching pumps ran in-between traffic down the middle sunset boulevard in a zigzag formation with hands flailing in the air. Maybe it was the state of intoxication or maybe it was the adrenaline, but the ease of dogging cars and side-stepping making her way to the stationary party bus resembled a dance we came to call, “doing the fool”. With the door open she jumped onboard.
With the cargo in tow the festivities began again, but I was still having a moment and one of my most trusted friends(the same from earlier) knew. Coming to my aid he whispered in the driver’s ear. We passed our turn and arrived into the parking lot of, Mel’s Drive-In. My eyes lit up and uproarious applause from the usual suspects as they funneled out. A detour to Mel’s was just what I needed. I did not leave the bus and all could do or say was, “Chicken Fingers…”
Sufficiently fed and fueled I was back in action as the party bus pulled into the backyard of the property in, Hollywood Hills. Despite, the fool, we had made it and none of the rules were broken. My social lifeline and most fun treasured pastime was still in tact. The “in” to the party greeted me at the doors of the bus with a, “Happy Birthday!” and as we walked inside he causally informed me, “Oh, this is Seth Green’s house...”
But that’s a story for a different day. Now c’mon everybody… “Do The Fool!”
