I’ve been doing it for years and it’s no secret, k? I sometimes lie about what I do for a living. Some people might consider my job somewhat glamorous so yeah, when I’m at Soho House WeHo and I don’t feel like listening to the 30 minute agent pitch, yeah, I lie about my job. So what? Get off me, ok? You’d do it too if you had to listen to a 15 minute one-sided convo on why their D-list reality star client should work with YOUR brand. Fuck…off.
Anywho, one day I decided that instead of getting mad, I was gonna just have FUN. A few months ago I decided to let loose on one of these “agents” and instead of telling him what I really do, I told him I was a high school teacher. But not just ANY teacher…an ENGLISH TEACHER. Please note, I can mock english teachers because my mother is an english teacher and fully admits that she’s barely done ANY work whatsover, since grad school. Good for her.
I digress. This boy/man immediately asked me if I was “in the industry” so I felt NO REMORSE when I decided to let loose on him. “so…what do you do?” he asked. “I’m…an english teacher,” I replied back. Yep, I’m stickin’ with it, bitch.
“So where do you teach?” SHIT. Where DO I TEACH? I’m from NEW YORK. How the hell do I know high schools in LA? I replied with the only logical answer: West Beverly Hills High, or “West Bev,” as I called it. DUH.
For anyone who doesn’t know, “West Bev” is a totally made up high school that the cast of the original Beverly Hills 90210 cast attended back in the 90s. I obviously expected him to tell me to go fuck myself up a river so when he replied “ooooh, cool!” I didn’t know what to do with myself…so I went with it, naturally.
“yeah…I’m really close with my students. They’re just fantastic.” “oh yeah?” he replied. “yep, I’ve got these twins- Brenda and Brandon, from Minnesota, they’re so smart and down to earth. Then I’ve got Donna- she’s dyslexic but she’s super artistic and has a heart of GOLD. Oh, and how can I not mention Steve?! He’s the little engine that could. He’s gotten into major trouble but I have faith that he’ll pull through and do something (maybe a charity donation?!) amazing in the end that will win colleges over. Ugh, and let’s not forget Dylan. He’s been through THE RINGER but has somehow made it work, even through parent murders and substance abuse. Ugh, and then there’s my Andrea. She’s my token Jew (even though Beverly Hills is ALL Jew) from the wrong side of the tracks. I predict that she will go to Yale! I’d bet my life on it! But she’ll be back…mark my words.”
“Holy shit, you’re like mother Theresa!” the guy said. Puh-lease…it’s all in a day’s work at West Beverly Hills High.
I AM going to hell.
By now I’m sure you have come to realize that I am basically the female version of BIG. Ever since I was young, my brother and I have always been obsessed with dinosaurs and have yet to grow out of it. It’s really hard to explain to someone at the office why you have glow-in-the-dark T-Rex’s in your cubicle, especially once they find out that you DON’T have any children. It gets a little awkward at that point.
I have to admit that 2 years ago my birthday theme at the bar was Jurassic Park. Now, you may be thinking “Wow, D you had a Jurassic Park themed party AT the bar IN LOS ANGELES?” Hell yes I did and everyone who came had an amazing time. My one friend even dressed up as a raptor for christ’s sake and the bartender played the theme song on his iPod. If a J.P. party doesn’t get you laid, I don’t know what will at this point. 2 weeks later I met a guy in town from NYC at the bar and we were talking about his upcoming birthday plans. I am NOT shitting you, he was having a Jurassic Park party. What. The. Eff. I met my soulmate and then I let him slip away into the night. No number, no nothing. I should have google stalked HIM and shown up to his party dressed as a sex-i-saurus so we could start our weird fetish life together! Maybe one day I will find the Ross to my Rachel.
Yes it’s true. I’m a 27 year-old female with a twin size bed. To defend myself, I do live in a studio apartment with limited space so fitting in a larger bed wouldn’t work. This explains why I never have guests over to my apartment…ever. Which in turn makes my friends think I have corpses hidden in my floorboards (only semi-true). Once a guy suggested we have drinks at my place before going out which I politely turned down with the “It’s so dirty” excuse, which is also true. But honestly how sexy is the below:
“Oh hello there sir, would you like to take a seat on my twin size bed and have a beer?”
Just saying twin size bed is a turn off, unless of course you are into some extreme spooning with myself and some stuffed animal. Besides the space issue, it’s really about me just being plain lazy. But as my dear friend jsssb says “If you build it, they will come.”