I wake up on Shaun and Adam’s couch at about 7 in the morning. Truth is, I didn’t really sleep well and it was kind of hot all night and I was still wearing the same clothes from the day before when I got off the plane. I try to think about what happened after dinner last night, and then it all kind of comes back to me.
I remember going to Magnolia with Tasha, meeting up with Shaun and Adam, and having some more drinks before we headed over to The Well. Across the street from that bar is the Hollywood Palladium where I worked on and off for 8 years, and as I looked at it now on a dark night it seems so peaceful and quiet, unlike the last two years of my life when I worked there.
That place was always a shit show, which I assume must be a trend in my life because the place in Seattle that I currently work certainly has the same qualities of shit I used to endure on a daily basis, only worse. The only thing that is missing are the bands and the intermissions where I would be able to get a half hour break from bartending. A break now? What the hell is that? I make drinks for 8 hours straight and probably haven’t taken more than an seven minute break since I’ve been hired.
“Do you live in the city of Seattle?” Adam asks.
“I live like six miles north of the city, but it’s still Seattle proper.” I replied.
“Seattle Proper!!” Tasha mocks
Has no one ever heard of that saying? But, that’s pretty much the epitome of what my friends and I do. We talk about shit in our lives, bust each other’s balls, then do it all over again. Adam I leave the small group to have a smoke outside and we start talking about the last six months. It’s great to see him again. Adam and I are a lot alike in the sense that we’re both really good guys who never seem to get a break when it comes to relationships. I guess you could say we are handicapped in some way. He tells me about a girl at work he had been into that didn’t work out, and I tell him about the girl at work I had been into that didn’t work out. There is this humbling connection he and I have when it comes to talking about failing in love, and yes you read that right. I did not type the word “falling” because the former seems to happen more than the latter.
We chat for awhile and before I know it it’s close to one in the morning and it’s at this point when the memories start to get a little fuzzy. However, one of the last things I do is spot a sign on the door of the building next to the bar, and I laugh because I can’t believe we were just talking about this. I snap a picture and I show it to Tasha
The next morning the sun is shining through Shaun and Adam’s living room window and even the blanket that I draped over the curtains isn’t really doing any good keeping the light out. The fan is on full blast and it’s not long before Tasha comes to pick me up and we head over to our old apartment in Hollywood where I haven’t been for the last six months. It’s already approaching 88 degrees at ten am, and I can feel all the wine, bourbon, and beer seeping out of me as I sit on the porch and wait for Tasha to get there.
“I need a burger and a diet coke” I say to her as I get into the car.
She puts the air conditioning on blast and we drive over to Carlton Way to do the final walk through at the apartment. After we park I run into my old landlord and I wonder if he knows I haven’t lived in the place since January and I’ve been illegally subletting it to my bff. I tell him we’ll be ready in about 20 minutes for the walk though and I head up the stairs and walk into apartment #310 for the last time ever. It’s smaller than I remember, but it’s just as empty as the first day I moved in back in 2011, minus the bed and the two couches Tasha and I have to dispose of in the middle of the hottest part of the day after I’ve barely slept and I am still wearing the same clothes from the night before. This is going to be tough, not mentally, but physically, but maybe a little bit mentally too as I would come to find out.
As Tasha cleans up parts of the bedroom and the kitchen, I get to work moving the box spring and mattress down the flight of stairs and into the trash area. It looks like a furniture store down there as there are tables, chairs, a bed, and other stuff and I assume someone just moved out until I notice a sign posted on the wall. The sign reads something like:
“Do not take any of the stuff in this area, it is infested with bed bugs.”
Gross. I throw Tasha’s old box spring down against the wall and I make sure not to touch ANY of the other items near the dumpster. I’m not surprised at all by the fact that there is a bed bug infestation going on at that apartment. Tasha and I went through the same thing back in 2012 when we had to get rid of my old bed and cover everything while they bombed the apartment. I remember her and I checked into a hotel room down the street that day and took the cat and the rabbit with us against the rules of the motel. That afternoon we got drunk on chardonnay and ate thai food until some time after the sun went down when we could move back into our apartment.
My sunglasses are slipping off of my face in the stifling California heat, so I head back up into the apartment, dragging my feet and desperately in need of food and water which will eventually come but not before I look around the apartment and reminisce a little bit.
5741 Carlton Way #310 represented a dream that Tasha and I had for years. A dream of being successful creators of our own TV show, and even though we didn’t carry out the couch ourselves, that couch was where it all began. I can’t put into words what we went through over those 3 and a half years, so instead let me post a picture of Tasha’s instagram that she uploaded shortly after we finished the walk through of the apartment that day which pretty much sums it up.
Trent & Tilly, the web series, and then the TV show was the lifeblood of me and Tasha’s career, even though we didn’t make a dime off of it. We made a bunch of webisodes and a half hour pilot episode, but you’ll probably never see them. We worked really hard, sacrificed a lot, and in fact, I went into debt thousands of dollars just trying to stay in Los Angeles another two years to see if there was a chance the show would actually turn into a reality. It was such a good idea for a TV show, and it still is so I’m not going to give away any plot elements just in case. We had celebrities in the pilot, agents to negotiate our deals, managers who wanted to rep us, people who wanted to work with us and people who we fired for being idiots. But the real magic of it all was that Tasha and I had this obvious chemistry on screen that everyone could see, and sometimes was captured when we weren’t playing our parts, but instead, we were just playing ourselves. Here is an example from 2014 of what I mean:
I finally meet up with Alex, who also was the inspiration for a character in our show, and he walks me through the apartment making notes of what needs a touch up, the couches that need to be removed, and what needs to be fixed like the window in the kitchen that I broke last summer when I was frustrated as fuck. I remember a wrote a blog about that day….
Alex speaks in a thick Russian accent and as we finish the walk through he has some very nice words to say about me and Tasha.
“You are good tenants. So EEEF…you ever want to move back in, it will be ok no problem.”
This comes after he tells me that when they renovate the apartment they will probably charge $1600 a month for it. As much as I appreciate how much he appreciated me as a tenant, there is no way I would ever move back into this apartment building and pay $500 more a month than what I was paying. Besides, I don’t want to live in L.A. anymore but even if I did, you can’t go back. You must go on.
I shake hands with Alex, he tells me that my security deposit refund should be in the mail within two weeks and I highly doubt I’m going to get anything back, so you could imagine how surprised I was the other day when I got a check in the mail for $600. That pretty much paid for my trip and whatever expenses I incurred over the four days.
This was a hard day in L.A. Not only was it hot and I was tired and suffering from Hollywood allergies, but I had to say goodbye to a time and a place in my life…again. Six months ago I blogged about how in the last few minutes before I left for Seattle, I took a last look around the apartment as Tasha asked me if I wanted to take a picture. When I heard her say that, I got a little choked up and I said “No, I just need to go.” This time tough, I indulged in that opportunity.
Thirty minutes later, Tasha and I find ourselves exhausted, sitting in a Carl’s Jr. on Pico and San Vincente eating cheeseburgers, fries, and drinking diet cokes. I miss Carl’s Jr. a lot. It was probably one of the most rewarding fast food meals I have had in decades. We sit there chowing down our first bit of food since the day before reflecting on the afternoon, emotionally and physically drained from the last 24 hours. There is really only one thing left to say.
“I need a nap.” I say to her.
“Me too.” She replies.