Page 68 of Reel Love

“Yes. The guy you met at Ben and Summer’s barbecue,” Mila says.

“Ah. Yes. I remember him.”

NINETEEN

Alana

In its purest form, dating is auditioning.

(And auditioning means

we may or may not get the part.)

~ Joy Browne

“So, it’s Kelly Clarkson, Jimmy Fallon, and Jimmy Kimmel. Two tomorrow and the second Jimmy the next day. Got it?” Brigitte asks. She sounds out of breath.

“What are you doing? Running from someone?”

“Oh, yes. You know me. I’m being chased down by hordes of hot men. I have to outrun them because, goodness knows, if they caught up to me, I’d have to date. And then I’d have to pick amongst them all …” she trails off. Then she shouts, “Hey! Watch it! Pedestrian right of way, dingus! That’s why I’m in a crosswalk! See me, the girl walking with a garment bag? Pedestrian!”

She returns her attention to me. “Where was I? I swear. These drivers. Oh. Yes. I was talking about men chasing me. As if.”

“Men would chase you, Bridge. You’re adorable, sharp, funny, and quirky in a way that makes you special.”

“Special has sooo many meanings.”

“Special has one meaning when it comes to you. You’re one of a kind.”

She’s breathless, obviously rushing wherever she is. “Again, that could be good or bad. One of a kind, rare, or one of a kind as in God broke the mold because He knew the world could only take one of me.”

“All the good. Now, stop fishing for compliments. What’s got you out of breath?”

“I am running errands for the Queen of Hearts.”

“She’s got you running errands?”

“For you. Errands for you. It’s my job, you know? You have three talk show appearances over the next two days. You need the consummate outfits, pressed and ready. And a whole slew of other things. Things you don’t need to fret about. Trust me. And, yes. I have five minutes to get my car out of a space that is metered so I avoid a ticket.”

“I’ll pay the ticket. Slow down.”

Brigitte may not even hear me. She’s on one of her rolls, which are entertaining as long as she’s not actually suffering.

“Why do they have meters in Los Angeles? Also, why do some meters only allow parking until six p.m.? If you’re going to charge me, let me park here round-the-clock. It’s insanity. Meters are of the devil.” She pauses. Her voice turns cheery. “Hi!” Another pause. “Yes! It’s beautiful out.” Her voice goes up an octave. “Isn’t he a little cutie? Aren’t you cute? Awww. You’re the cutie patootie cutie badootie wootie. Yes, you are.” Her voice drops back to normal. “Have a nice day.”

Brigitte seamlessly returns her attention to me. “Sweet old lady out walking the absolutely cutest little Frenchie. Those dogs are the cutest. Anyway, I was saying, it could take me those precious five minutes left on my meter to stand in line at the dry cleaner on a busy day. Then what? I’d have to pay because some suit from West LA got in line before me and felt the need tocomplain about the level of starch in his shirt. It’s ludicrous, I tell you.”

She’s breathless, but doesn’t pause to take a breath. “Yet, we have to feed these insipid parking machines. Besides, isn’t living here costly enough? Not that I’m griping. I’m not. We have the best climate in the country. And the men are delicious to look at, though, too many of them know it. And you pay me plenty. Don’t you fret.”

“I don’t. But you can ask for a raise, you know.”

“What did I tell you about that? When I feel I’ve earned one, I’ll ask. I already make more than so many assistants in the business.”

She’s worth it. Note to self, give her a big, fat bonus this week for all these errands.

“It’s just a crime against humanity to have these parking meters everywhere. There’s like one open spot available for every hundred cars. It’s a design flaw, I tell you. If I were in charge, the first thing I’d do is have them rip out all these meters. We could melt the metal down and make something useful—like another parking garage!” She laughs at her own brilliance. “Whatever happened to survival of the fittest? We should be allowed to vie for parking spaces, and may the best man—or woman—win. Don’t you think?”

“Yes. Of course.”

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