Going Down in La-La Land (34 page)

Instead of leaving, I stuck around to get an HIV test as well. I had always tried to be as safe as possible, but at this point I wasn’t sure of anything. I had been with so many people since arriving in LA I couldn’t keep track. I began manifesting the worst in my mind. What if I had caught AIDS? Then what would I do? Maybe I was being punished for all my evil deeds. My thoughts churned over and over with “what if.” I began sweating and shaking, twitching my right foot so uncontrollably that the other people in the lobby looked at me in irritation, the guy next to me getting up and moving to another seat.

I was broken from my trance when a cute Hispanic guy came down the hall and announced my number. I followed him down the hall into a small office and sat down. Unlike the nurse I had earlier, he was soft-spoken.

“
Hello, I’m Eduardo, one of the counselors. How are you doing?” he asked.

Well gee, let me think,
I wanted to say.
My eyes are popping out of my head from anxiety, I’m trembling uncontrollably, and I’m chewing on my lip like it’s a stick of gum, what do you think?

Instead I settled on “Fine.”

We began with routine questions about my sexual history.

“
How many partners have you had in the last year?” Eduardo asked at one point.

Oh shit. I couldn’t even recollect.

“
Umm, let me think,” I stammered.

I sat there for a few minutes. There was Dale, John, Wayne Hanley, Tray, other clients, and numerous porn stars from the handful of films I made for HUNG. Finally, Eduardo asked, “Can you give me an approximate number?”

“
Twenty-five,” I said.

The questions got more excruciating, such as how many times was anal sex involved, did I receive or give, and so forth. I knew the whole process. I had been tested numerous times before. But it was agonizing to try to remember the details of individual sex acts on the scene of each porno set, and every night as a male whore for hire. At one point in our conversation, the subject turned toward work.

“
I’m currently unemployed,” I mumbled.

At that point I did something I had never done before. I looked at the poor guy, tears welled up in my eyes, and I started sobbing. I just completely broke down. Everything came out at once. I was making a complete display of myself in front of a complete stranger, bawling my eyes out. Losing a guy I loved, being out of a job, picking up an STD, and seeing my image splashed on a tacky phone sex ad was more than I could take.

In a way it made sense I was having an emotional breakdown here and now. I was in an office, speaking with someone whose job it was to hear information that was completely confidential, almost like a therapist. And what I desperately needed right now, other than a decent job, was a therapist.

The poor guy looked at me with deer eyes and passed me a box of tissue. It was safe to assume such an unexpected outburst from a grown man was not something he was prepared for first thing in his day. Then again, I had to take into consideration the kind of work he did and where I was. From the outside I appeared like someone who should have his act together. Nothing could be further from the Truth.

“
You know, the state of California has public assistance programs that you are probably eligible for,” Eduardo said meekly.

While he was trying to be helpful, that bit of information only had me sobbing harder. Holy shit. Now the subject had turned to welfare. I had dealt with a lot of issues and circumstances in my life, but never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I’d even be touching upon the subject of my going on welfare. What was even worse was that in the back of my mind I thought it might not be such a bad idea. If things kept on going as they were, I might soon find myself in line. Eduardo the HIV counselor was probably horrified at this point.

I finally got a grip on myself, and we solemnly proceeded with what was supposed to be a routine HIV test.

“
Would you like the names of those services?” Eduardo asked as I got up to leave.

“
No thanks,” I said. “I’ll be okay. I’m just going through a rough spell.”

I just wanted to go home.

On the brighter side, I had to pee before finally getting out of there. I found the bathroom in the hall and prepared myself for pain. The nurse must have given me something strong, because whatever it was had already kicked in. There was considerably less discomfort than last time. I hoped the rest of my life, especially my HIV test results, turned out as well as my urinary tract.

That night Candy was getting ready for a party at Koi, one of the restaurants to be seen at in town.

“
Are you sure you don’t want to tag along?” Candy asked while strapping on a pair of gold Manolo Blahnik stilettos. Her look this evening was particularly stunning. She had on a beige cashmere tank top sweater with a padded bra that made her breasts look even bigger than they already were. A sequined gold and nude skirt that cost $2,500 from Blumarine, which she had seen Jennifer Lopez wear in a photo shoot, lit up the room.

“
No, I think I’m just going to hang out here,” I replied. While Candy looked breathtaking, I was frazzled and looked like shit. I felt gross too, as though I were infested with the encounters from my past, both mentally and physically.

“
You sure you don’t want to change your mind? There will be an open bar and sushi,” Candy teased as she touched up her lips with some Chanel gloss. She was a whirling dervish while getting ready— sandal straps one second, lip gloss the next—but always came out looking like a million bucks.

“
No. Thanks but no thanks,” I said.

“
All right,” Candy sighed in resignation with a hint of disapproval. She felt I was becoming a permanent hermit, succumbing to serious agoraphobia.

“
How do I look?” she asked, spinning around in her sequined number.

“
Sensational,” I smiled.

“
If you change your mind, call me.” And with that she clicked her way out of the apartment, shutting and locking the door behind her.

I would soon regret not accompanying her, despite my depression. I tried to lay down with a book but was too fidgety and nervous, worried about my HIV test results. Thinking the television would distract me more easily, I turned it on. After flipping through the channels I came upon none other than John hamming it up on the screen before me.

I had forgotten that
Life’s Lessons
aired that night. Instead of changing the channel I froze, watching John and thinking about how happy I was with him, how right it felt. I sat numb for minutes watching the whole program and wishing that things could have been different. The urge to call him was becoming impossible to fight. I had little pride left, and I didn’t want to seem any more pathetic and dangerous, misguided and misdirected to him by contacting him in my current frame of mind.

Suddenly an uncharacteristic rage took over me. After beating the pillows hysterically and spooking out the cats, I realized I need to calm down. I darted into Candy’s bathroom.

Her vast collection of cosmetics took over the counter, compartment after compartment of Lancôme, Chanel, Shiseido, MAC, Bobbi Brown, and more set up in clear compartments purchased at Bed, Bath, and Beyond. Ignoring the mess, I pulled open her medicine cabinet. After knocking over a few bottles I found what I was looking for, her bottle of Xanax. Grabbing a handful, I popped them in my mouth, chasing the pills down with tap water gathered in the palm of my hand.

I need something better to chase these down with,
I thought, and went into the kitchen where I found a bottle of merlot open on the counter. I couldn’t be bothered to pour it into a glass, so I just started guzzling it down from the bottle.

All of a sudden I felt really hot. I started stripping my clothes off right then and there in the kitchen, piece by piece, flinging each garment around with reckless abandon.

“
Score!” I yelled as my underwear caught onto the ceiling fan.

“
What this place really needs is some music,” I hollered out loud in a drugged-up stupor that was really beginning to hit. Prancing over to the stereo system, I punched the buttons until ABBA’s
Greatest Hits
came on. Soon I was spinning around in the room like an escapee from Bellevue.

“
Dancing Queen, young and sweet, only seventeen,” I bellowed in the most tone-deaf, off-key, ear-splitting singing voice imaginable. No
American Idol
reject had anything on me.

I grabbed a hot pink feather boa Candy had draped over one of her lamps in the living room, which she kept around so we could crack each other up with our Mae West impersonations.

Dancing over to the stereo I turned the volume dial up all the way, the music blasting so the walls shook. It felt so good to forget about everything. I wanted this feeling to last forever. No more worries about the future, no more regrets about the past. No more feeling scared, negative, like I wasn’t skilled enough, not smart enough. No more feeling like a freak.

A minute later I heard banging on the doorway. It was Candy’s neighbor Orly, yelling to turn down the music.

“
Cahn-dee, Ahh-dum, turn down the mus-eeec right now!” Orly hollered in her broken English.

“
Fuck off, Orly!” I yelled, and then darted for the bathroom, tripping on the boa around my neck and skidding on the floor along the way. Crawling the rest of the way I felt the cool tile of the bathroom, hoisted myself up, and grabbed the remaining bottle of Xanax, dumping them down my throat and coughing.

Stumbling toward the kitchen I grabbed the wine, spilling most of it on the boa and my naked body but getting a bit of a swig in my mouth.

“
I called the po-leeese!” Orly yelled, banging furiously on the door.

“
Go away!” I moaned.

The room started spinning faster and faster around me. I felt hot, so hot. I needed fresh air. Through my blurred vision I could see the opening to the darkness outside, the gauzy curtains that framed the balcony. Stumbling toward the open door of the balcony, I crashed into a side table, knocking over a lamp and a vase.

“
Shit. Candy’s gonna be pissed,” I slurred.

Finally I crossed the threshold from the living room to the balcony. The cool evening air smacked against my hot skin, offering just a slight wisp of invigoration. Pulling myself up against the iron railing I stood against the late night breeze, hot pink feathers flying around me and sticking to my mouth as I tried to spit them away.

“
John, John, I love you. I love you so much.” I mumbled, feeling queasy and hanging over the railing, my head feeling heavy.

Behind me the faint banging of the door and more voices could barely be heard under the blaring ABBA music as “Mamma Mia” now blasted.

Air, I need more air,
I thought as I leaned forward further. The next thing I knew a sharp pain hit me in the stomach, causing me to buckle over. My body jutted further. Then everything went black.

It wasn’t a pang of pain in my stomach but a pain in my eyes that greeted me as I awoke to a blinding flood of light. For a moment I thought they were the lights of heaven, until my squinty eyes and blurry vision cleared and I saw Candy sitting next to me in her familiar pale blue sweat suit.

“
Where I am I?” I whispered.

“
Cedars Sinai,” Candy answered bluntly.

“
What happened?” I asked.

“
Well, where do I begin,” Candy started in a no-nonsense tone. “After raiding my medicine cabinet it appears you decided to take a dive off the balcony in nothing but a pink feathered boa, almost getting us evicted in the process. Miraculously, all you ended up with was a broken wrist and mild concussion after hitting the grass instead of the cement. Oh, did I mention they managed to pump your stomach and get most of the Xanax out?”

“
Oh Jesus. I am so sorry, Candy,” I moaned, picking up my head a bit to look at the cast on my right arm.

“
Ohhh,” I gasped in pain. My head felt like a rock.

“
That would be the egg-size bump on your head,” Candy muttered. Then, taking hold of my other hand, she squeezed it hard, placed one hand on my cheek, and emphatically told me, “Adam, don’t ever do that again. No matter how bad things seem, they change. Don’t ever, ever pull that shit. Promise me?” she ordered while her blue eyes stared into mine.

“
I promise,” I replied gently.

“
Good,” she winked, and then kissed me on the forehead.

“
So they told me the medics did their best to keep it professional after arriving on the scene to find a large, muscular naked man laying on the ground with a hot pink boa tossed around his neck. You’re the talk of the whole building. When I came home I couldn’t get Orly to shut up. She followed me from the apartment all the way to my car, and wanted to come to hospital as well. Thankfully I was able to talk her out of it. She was very concerned though, despite the fact you disrupted her beauty sleep with raging disco music.”