I saw a story in an entertainment magazine about how Tara Reid lowered the price she gets for attending parties. She used to ask for $25,000 to attend a party or grand opening. Nobody was hiring her, so she lowered it to $10,000. Then it went down to $5000. And with still no offers, she was down to three grand. What a deal!
One of the cast members of The Hills was on Letterman, and Dave was making fun of the fact that this kid said he won't show up at an event for less than $100,000.
I started thinking, If I could get celebrities to attend parties with me, we could parlay this thing into some serious cash.
I didn't bring an actress to the party I went to in Pacific Beach, but there were times I wished I had brought a firearm. These dudes were scary.
A guy named Eric, who is a doorman at Typhoon Saloon, was having a party with a bunch of bouncers and bartenders from the PB area.
I walked up to a crowd playing beer pong on the side of the house. It was early in the evening, but it seemed like these guys had been going all day. One guy said, "Man, I got here at four o'clock, and I haven't stopped drinking yet." I glanced at my cell phone. It was 7:30 p.m.
I walk into the backyard and found Eric. He was wearing a sports jersey. I noticed he had a Boston accent. I said, "You must be happy about the Celtics beating the Lakers." He went on a profanity-laced tirade about how much he hates the Lakers, which ended with "Kobe is a rapist. And when a rapist loses, everyone else is a winner."
It was a bizarre rant but hysterical. Even though I hate the Celtics, I bit my tongue.
Eric punched me in the chest and said, "Let me get you a beer." I told him I was good.
There was a DJ set up by a stack of kegs. There were a few coolers that were filled with beer. I heard cheering and clapping over at the beer pong, and I made my way back over there. Someone said, "You should've been to the previous party here. We had beer roulette going. We had relays and teams that were color-coordinated. It was awesome."
It looked like the only other game they had going this night was a horseshoe type of thing with beanbags. A tall African American and a muscular Latino went from playing the game to throwing the beanbags as hard as they could at each other's chests. After a few throws, the black guy covered up his crotch. A woman nearby said, "Smart move."
There was another guy at the party named Eric. I asked him if it's confusing with the other Eric. "Oh, no. He goes by 'Worm.' He even has a tattoo of a worm on his arm." When Worm came over, I asked to see his tattoo. The worm on his arm was burrowing out of an apple. Worm said, "He has a gap in his teeth, just like me. I got the nickname from my brothers. They said I always wormed my way into situations." He punched me in the arm before walking away.
Someone said to me, "Why were you asking so many questions about Worm's brothers and his tattoo? Are you Dr. Phil?" I smiled and said, "I was just curious about the nickname. Dennis Rodman was the only other person I knew of that had that nickname."
Another guy said, "He might need Dr. Phil. He and his girlfriend just broke up last week." Worm heard this and ran over. He said, "Dude, what are you throwing my ass under the bus like that for?" My girlfriend leaned in and said, "Don't write that. I think Worm was bummed that that was brought up." I replied, "Hey, he's already over there talking to another cute chick. He's fine."
When I was talking to people earlier, Worm had no problem yelling, "Don't tell him anything. He's with the FBI. That's why he's taking photos and scribbling notes. You're all gonna be busted tomorrow."
I looked over and saw him hug another woman and ask her where she's been. She smiled, and they seemed flirty with each other.
I went over to some big guys that were playing cards at the other end of the backyard. One guy looked like a huge Samoan with a ponytail. Since they're bouncers, I asked them the worst situation they've ever had trying to throw someone out. They started to answer but then didn't feel comfortable with me filming and taking notes.
One of the guys playing horseshoes said, "Oh, you're writing about this? Well, don't say that I'm such a bad shot. It's really just because I'm buzzed."
I lit up a cheap cigar, and a few guys asked me if it was a blunt. When I told them that it had no pot in it, they lost interest. A few minutes later, I smelled pot wafting through the air.
I talked to one guy who brews his own beer. He told me that he likes Belgian beers and went into detail on the amount of hops and alcohol in them. He and his brother have been brewing for the past six months. I asked him if it saves money. "It's $40 for two and a half cases, so, yeah, it is a bit cheaper. Hops are in short supply, so sometimes things like that change the prices."
One guy approached me and said, "Excuse me. I have to ask that you don't use any photos of me." I told him I wouldn't. Just then, I heard Worm yell from across the yard, "Stay away from that dude. He's with the CIA."
I talked to a bartender who also shapes surfboards. I asked if he had any crazy bartending stories. He said, "I was working a bar mitzvah and the rabbi came over. He would point at each bottle and say, 'That's not kosher! That's not kosher! We can't have that; it's not kosher.' He wouldn't let me serve any of the alcohols. I basically ended up pouring Sprite and Coke."