Boyfriend is in L.A. on business, and I’ve caught a last minute flight to join him for a few days of palm-treed, expense-accounted glory. Unlike Santa Monica, basically just South Beach and Park Slope thrown in a Cuisinart, L.A. proper has a unique self-obsession that New Yorkers can instantly identify with. After bidding Boyfriend farewell as he drives off to juggle egos that make the greatest law firm narcissists sound like candidates for the next Dalai Lama, I head to the pool with laptop in tow, preparing to get some work done.
Wading through jiggly bleached blondes with rawhide tans, I find a chair and settle in as a beefy attendant with Jason Priestly hair trots over with a towel. A gorgeous waitress in a sarong and baby tee glides over and asks if I’d like a drink. Glad I’m wearing sunglasses, I stare enviously at her exposed abs, defined to the point of concave. A Bloody Mary, please, plus about six months of personal training sessions.
In the chaises beside me sit two men sipping thick green concoctions, immersed in conversation. Both wear small, rectangular sunglasses and loose linen shirts over fitted black slacks, their pockets bulging with Blackberries and Treos, the ubiquitous tan gleaming from their arms and cheeks. One tells the other that he loved the script, but has some questions. With a New Yorker’s ease in close physical proximity, I fall into practiced eavesdropping.
“Alright, talk to me. Now the Monica character is a cool superhero? Or just a smart girl who can see her past lives and wants to be a rock star?”
“Superhero. Definitely. The metaphysical unexplained visions give her super powers.”
“Ok so we have Monica with all the supernatural shit - maybe we could get Geena Gershon, I’m seeing her manager later today. So then Ice Cube tries to rape her?”
“He tries, but she thinks he just wants her to audition for his band. Then she reads his mind and kills him. We’ll shoot the whole scene in black and white, with the digital shots cutting in and out, it’ll be out of control.”
“But what about the scene where she gives him a blowjob then makes out with the Sarah character?”
“Yeah, we want to throw in the lesbian aspect. It’ll get the teen male demographic.”
“Perfect! And women like lesbian movies too! Remember the scene in Chasing Amy? Lesbian scenes are killer. Go with that, absolutely.”
“Right. So the two women kill him, then they go on a road trip…”
“You do realize we’re approaching Thelma & Louise territory here.”
“But without the suicide. Plus we’re adding past lives. And Thelma never ate Louise out in a gas station bathroom.”
“Got it. So it’s like a journey of personal discovery, but with lesbian superhero mind-readers?”
“Exactly.”
“Can we set it in space?”