In Oakland I had a friend who was dating a Famous Hollywood Director. I used to have dinner at his house in the Berkeley Hills. He was a pretty cool dude. There was like a 25-year age difference between my friend and this dude but they got along real well.
Anyway my friend’s parents were in town, and she invited me to have dinner with them at A Very Expensive Restaurant in Berkeley. I don’t know why I agreed to go. I guess I thought it would at the very least be interesting. I was also really nervous about how much it would cost (each course was like literally $30) but they ended up covering the bill for me! Uh, it was a bizarre experience. Rich people are fucking weird, man.
Before I had left the house I got stoned for some reason, which was a horrible idea. I remember sitting there and hearing this family talking in a private dining room nearby. It was Grandpa The Patriarch’s 80th birthday or some shit. He gently took his granddaughter’s hand into his and said, “Sylvia, will you please sing for us? How we love to hear you sing.” And she said, “Oh, Grandpapa, of course I will.” This was horrifying. I’m not even making this up. And then she starting singing in this really loud operatic voice. I couldn’t believe it. I thought rich people only did stuff like that in movies.
My friend’s parents and her boyfriend asked me about books and movies. I suggested some strange stuff to them. I mean all I read / watch is strange stuff, so I wasn’t fucking with them or anything. They were genuinely intrigued by all this. It was very confusing to me. I told them my friend had hired me on Craigslist to be her friend and come to dinner with her and they believed me. I guess I seemed really uncomfortable being there—I was dressed as I normally am, and everyone else was wearing fancy clothes. Also my eyes were solid red, I’m sure of it. I was sweating a lot and I didn’t know which fork you use to eat salad.
My friend sent me this text afterwards. Apparently her boyfriend was perceptive enough to know that I absolutely despise myself.
