The Perils of Praline (25 page)

“Yeah.”

“No. No, I don’t think so,” Praline could barely believe he was turning Dave G. down.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re not into it.”

“Well, you’re into it. And I’m into getting parts. Isn’t that enough?”

“Wait? You mean you had sex with me to get a part?”

“Yeah. Did I get it?”

“As far as I’m concerned you already had the part. You didn’t have to—”

“Oh, no, that’s not how it works,” Dave G. said sympathetically. “You’re still new at this, you don’t know the ropes. Look, I’m an honest guy and I don’t want to be given a part I haven’t earned. I wanna be really clear on that. Okay?”

“Okay,” Praline said, uncertainly.

“So, next time you have a part. Gimme a call. I’ll come by and we’ll have, you know, a private audition.”

Praline looked at him blankly as the actor put on his flip-flops.

When Dave G. had his things together he said, “Dude, could you get dressed? I need to go and it’s probably better if no one knows what we’ve been doing in here.”

“No problem,” Praline said and dressed as quickly as he could.

After Dave G. left, Praline sat at his desk and felt…well, betrayed. He’d just had the most amazing sex of his life and it had been with someone who’d been completely uninterested in him, someone who’d been acting. He felt tricked. Lied to. Of all the things that had happened to him since he’d come to Hollywood, scary things, bad things, mean things even, this was somehow the worst.

Praline always thought the best of people, but how was he supposed to feel about a young man who would toy with a person’s heart just to get a role on a TV show? He’d always thought people were basically good. But maybe people weren’t good when it came right down to it. That would certainly explain the experiences he’d been having lately.

And if other people weren’t good, why should he bother to be? And all at once, Praline had a vision of what his life could be. As a casting director he had access to hundreds, even thousands of actors. He could go through the files and pick out which ones he wanted to fuck—just like Tuck Roberts, only with guys. Sure, he found Tuck repulsive, but that was no reason not to emulate a person.

Obviously, it wouldn’t be difficult to have sex with actors once he got them into his office. He’d done it today without even trying. It would probably be even more fun if he knew he was doing it. And it wasn’t as though there was anyone to stop him. His boss was Sid Gaffer for heaven’s sake. He’d probably get a promotion if Sid found out what he was doing.

An excited thrill went through his chest. He was going to be a bad person, and somehow that was marvelous. Deciding he should begin right away looking through resume shots, Praline was about to leave his office when—

Our foolish hero discovers the happy ending, mostly.

—Jason walked in and gave him a scolding look. “So. Are the two of you taking out a marriage license?”

“Probably not,” Praline said and walked by Jason on his way to the file room.  He opened the door and walked directly to the Men’s A-C filing cabinet. Might as well start right at the beginning. Pulling open a drawer, he dug out a stack of resumes.

“But you had sex, didn’t you?” Jason asked, having followed his boss.

“Yes,” Praline replied defiantly. “It was totally hot.”

“Welcome to Hollywood,” Jason said.

Praline began separating the resumes into two stacks. Hot and Not Hot. Jason studied what he was doing, and then said, “I suppose you’re going to be one of those casting directors who fucks every hot actor he can get his hands on and thinks it’s a great life.”

It was like Jason had read his mind. “I’m thinking about it,” Praline admitted. “So what?”

And then he looked at Jason and saw the disappointment in his face. It hit him like a slap. He let the resumes fall out of his hands onto the floor. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t be the kind of person who called actors in just to fuck them. He couldn’t be a gay version of Tuck Roberts.

“I thought he liked me,” Praline said.

“He did like you. Actors like anyone who can help them.” Having lived his entire life in Los Angeles, Jason had a high opinion of actors. “I called Tracy over at
Hollywood Hospital
and told them you were sending him over and that we’re very interested in getting him on the show. He’ll get his job.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry things didn’t work out the way you wanted,” Jason said.

“You are? I thought you were against the whole thing.”

“I was. I am. But I can still be sorry you’re unhappy,” Jason replied.

Praline studied his friend. Suddenly it hit him, Jason wasn’t just interesting or sort of cute
;
he was hot, totally hot. How could he ever have thought Jason was unattractive? True, he might not get picked to be in a photo spread or a reality TV show or even a porno, but was that really all there was to attractiveness? Praline wasn’t so sure anymore. Jason was downright sexy because, well, because he was Jason.

“The thing you should know is…” Jason said, in a kinder tone than he normally used
,
“Your dreams don’t have to come true for life to be great. Sometimes things turn out okay anyway, maybe even better than okay. There’s only one thing we know for sure. Things will change and there’s a fifty/fifty shot they’ll change for the better.”

It was a sweet thing to say and, even though he had just finished having sex a few minutes before, it made him a little hard. Just then, his phone chirped, reminding Praline of something. Not bothering to check the phone he looked expectantly at Jason, who said, “You have a meeting upstairs with Sid Gaffer and the development people. After that, we’re leaving early so we can get home in time to see your mother on
The Dr. Jill Show
.”

When he arrived in Sid’s penthouse office, Tammy—who turned out to be an older woman with gray hair and the air of a librarian—ushered Praline into the conference room next to Sid’s office. Sid and the henchman were waiting. After a long discussion about which kind of bottled water would best suit Praline—by consensus they decided he needed the one extracted from endangered polar ice caps—they got down to business.

“Well Praline, I understand the meeting this morning was quite…productive,” Sid said in a suggestive tone, as though he’d been given a blow-by-blow, which Praline assumed he had. “I’m very excited by the ideas the four of you came up with. I think we’ve got an incredible film on our hands.”

“I don’t know, Mr. Gaffer,” Praline tentatively said. “Some of the ideas were, well, untruthful.”

“Yes,” said Sid, as though Praline had said something profound. “That’s the nature of filmic ideas. I’m glad you’re picking up on that.” He turned to the henchmen and said, “We need to get a writer on this. Who’s available?”

The henchmen threw out some names, each of which Sid rejected with comments like, “Uh-uh, he likes his own ideas too much,” “I don’t think so, she’s got a spine” or “Not him, he went to film school. Thinks he knows things.”

When they ran out of names, Sid asked, “What about actors’ kids? They’re not all pretty enough to follow in their parents’ footsteps, gotta be one of them who can type.” They ran through a bunch of names until they settled on the famously homely daughter of two incredibly gorgeous movie stars.

“That’s it then. We’re all on board,” Sid told the room. He stood up, ending the meeting.

“Well…” said Praline and then, after taking a deep breath, he used a word he rarely used, one that Sid Gaffer
had
never heard, “No.”

“No?” asked Sid. Confused, he looked at his henchmen, “What does that mean, ‘No’
?
”

One of the henchmen leaned forward, “No is a word we use with talent. I don’t know why he’s using it with you, sir.”

Praline knew he was stuck, but decided to try and bargain anyway, “You can do whatever you want to my story on one condition.” And then he laid out his one and only demand.

Later, when they got home to Jason’s apartment, Praline and Jason made themselves comfortable on the uncomfortable tangerine sofa. There was something he wanted to tell Jason, something important, but it was almost time for
The Dr. Jill Show
, so he decided to wait.

The news was just finishing before
The Dr. Jill Show
came on. The anchorman, an over-tanned, over-dressed man who looked as though he spent his entire life in the gym read, “Madison Harvey, the gun-toting woman behind this morning’s tense hostage situation at Box Studios
,
has announced that she has sold the rights to her life to rival studio Enormous Pictures.”

With a cut, they flashed to Madison on screen standing next to a pale-faced and surprised-looking Dougie
.
“I’m so pleased with the way things have turned out,” she said. “Enormous Pictures has purchased the rights to my life and will be making a feature film…”

“A feature?” cried Praline. “My life is just a Lovetime movie!”

“I’d also like to take this opportunity,” Madison continued, “to thank every politician, every grassroots organization, and every special interest group that has protected my right to bear arms. And remind every American that when things get tough, the tough reach for semi-automatic weapons. Thank you.”

The anchorman cleared his throat and continued in a very serious tone. “On a final note, anchorwoman Tawny Garcia-Gonzalez collapsed on the set of
Channel 8 News
. In a quick response, members of international aid organization The Med Cross have been dispatched to Beverly Hills to investigate reports of famine among on-air journalists.”

After the news ended,
The Dr. Jill Show
logo came on and then, after swirling around the studio audience, the camera settled on Dr. Jill sitting in the middle of her cream-colored, living-room style set. She wore a pink tailored suit and a white blouse with lacy ruffles.

With a manic smile, she looked into the camera and began her show. “Greetings, thank you for joining us today. We have a wonderful show in store for you. I’m sure you all have heard about the misfortune that has befallen our friend and fellow journalist, Malcolm Wright. I spoke to Malcolm earlier today and he’s gone into rehab to put this whole unpleasant business behind him.”

“Rehab?” Jason practically shouted. “For what? Being a conservative asshole?”

Praline shrugged, and Dr. Jill continued, “A tragic event like this makes me wonder, how do such things happen? How does a young man, a teenager, reach a point in his life where he’s willing to entice, to lure, to entrap a fine, upstanding man like Malcolm Wright into a life of degradation and depravity? Well, on today’s show, I have that young man’s mother here to answer that question and many others! Stay where you are. We’ll be right back.”

The show cut to commercial and Jason turned to Praline and said, “Wow, you must be pretty good. You can entice, lure and entrap men right out of traffic.”

“I try,” Praline said humbly.

“I can’t believe your mother’s doing this.”

“She needs the money,” Praline explained. “She’s been trying to change professions.”

“What does she do for a living?”

“Never mind.” He could probably trust Jason, he th
ough
t. But he’d been taught not to discuss his mother’s illegal activities.

The show came back on and Dr. Jill began Robin’s introduction
.
“Today we have a very brave woman with us, a single mother who did her best to raise her son only to discover that he’d become a depraved, predatory hustler luring decent men into his grasp. Here she is…Miss Robin Palmetier!”

Robin walked out to join Dr. Jill. Right away, Praline could tell something was wrong. “Uh-oh.”

“What?” asked Jason.

“Someone else did her hair.” Robin’s hair was flat brown. The sapphire completely rinse
d
out of it. And not only was it brown, it was spun around her head in a frothy way she called “enormous preacher-lady hair.” Which was not to say that she didn’t enjoy televangelists, it’s just that though she believed nearly everything they said about God, she disagreed violently with their ideas about hair. Usually she said something to the TV like, “I hope they don’t think that’s what hair looks like in heaven. Because if it is, I’m sure as heck gonna set that right.”

Despite the disaster on her head, Robin had an enormous smile on her face when she sat down next to Dr. Jill. “Hello Dr. Jill, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Thank you, Robin. I’m so glad you could come and speak to us during your time of trial and tribulation. I sincerely hope we can help,” Dr. Jill switched from her “kind” face to her “helpful” face. “Let’s start at the beginning. Tell us about your life before this calamity.”

“Well, Dr. Jill, I’m a simple, hard-working, God-fearing, single mother trying to make a place for myself and my son in the world.”

The audience applauded. Unnecessarily, Dr. Jill said, “Like many of the women in our audience.”

“Yes, I think that’s true.”

“Struggling to teach your child right from wrong.”

“Yes,” Robin said. “Exactly.”

“And, when did you realize your child was a deviant pervert?” Dr. Jill said with interest.

Robin looked directly into the camera and hesitated.

“Oh my gosh,” said Praline. “What on earth is she going to say?”

And then resolve spread across Robin’s face and she said, “Deviant pervert? Why bless your heart, Dr. Jill. I can’t say I’d use that term. It’s awful harsh, especially for a good Christian woman. But, since you asked, my son Praline told me that he was homosexual just last week, the day before he came to California.”

“That must have been devastating,” Dr. Jill reached out and touched Robin’s hand. “What did you say when he told you?”

“Well, I believe I said ‘butter my butt and call me a biscuit.’”

Dr. Jill gave her a confused smile. “You were in shock. How long did that last?”

“Oh, goodness gracious…twenty whole seconds, I think. Then I thought of all the things God has forgiven me for and, well, if he can forgive me, and believe me that could not have been easy, then he can forgive my son for wanting a little man-on-man action.”