I almost didn’t write anything this week. Even though it’s expected that I would. Had I not, it would have been classed as flaking. And that’s the LA way. Not having people say what they promise to do. Not returning phone calls, emails or texts. Having people say they’ll get in touch and you never hear from them again. I have to admit, it’s infectious.
It’s a known fact in Los Angeles that if you want 30 people to turn up at your party, you have to invite 300. Even if you get 100 RSVPs agreeing to attend, still bank on only a third of that number to actually make an appearance. And of that 30, don’t expect anyone to turn up within 2 hours of the time you specify. Now I know you may well be sitting at your computer thinking, well that happens in my city too, but the level of flakiness in LA is something to behold. It’s joked about. It’s revered. It’s not just fashionable to turn up late … it’s downright cutting edge to not turn up at all. And if you really want to achieve legendary status, it appears that one should actually call or text to say that you are ‘on the way’ before being a no show. If you want to push the boundaries of boldness you may send a follow up text an hour later nonchalantly signifying your intention to not be in attendance. Now I’m all for people being uncommitted to an invitation – that way I don’t expect them to arrive and am pleasantly surprised when they do. But to actually take the time and effort to specifically tell the host that you are literally 10 minutes away and then disappear off the radar like an Air France flight is just plain weird. What amazes me is the level of acceptance of this sort of behaviour. There are no tantrums, no shaking of heads, no vows of revenge. People just smile, shrug their shoulders and say “That’s LA for you”.
It’s because of these strange rituals that I have only really dipped my toe into the LA dating scene. I’m not ashamed to say that it scares the hell out of me. The other day I was sitting in my car at a set of traffic lights and from out of the two cars in front of me, arms suddenly appeared and business cards were exchanged. So that’s how you ask someone out? Personally I think you can only get away with that if you are driving something like a Bentley or a Porsche. A female friend of mine accumulates about 30 business cards a weekend from guys just from having coffee with a couple of girlfriends. It seems to me if you are stationary, you are fair game. Now, I’m an actor. I don’t have a business card. Does this relegate me to a life of celibacy and singledom? Would it have the same effect if I pulled up at traffic lights in my ’98 Toyota and I handed over a card with my social security number on it and a copy of my last unemployment check? Maybe I could print off miniature headshots and resumes and hand them out like a complete tool.
Even if I was successful in getting someone to overlook my obvious vehicular faults and join me for a coffee, would I know what to do? The rules of ‘dating’ are completely lost on me. How long does one ‘date’ someone before it is deemed to be a relationship? “Oh I’ve been dating this girl for 3 months”. Right, so she’s your girlfriend? “Um, no we haven’t had that talk. Plus I’m dating a few other girls”. Huh. Ok. And they are all ok with that? I’m sure they don’t know, but at the same time, it seems that they are all dating other guys too. Let’s face it, in this economy I don’t have the bottomless funds to be dating 3 and 4 girls at once. There’s only so many times I feel comfortable going through a McDonald’s drive thru in one week. I don’t need some pimply drive thru attendant making snide remarks whilst I’m trying to impress a date, like “the usual upsize?” or “let me guess, she’ll have a fat free, low carb, non meat salad?” And in a town where everyone is looking for the next leg up … or the next leg over in order to get a leg up …you never really know where you stand in dating food chain anyway.
In fact, Los Angeles women are definitely a breed unto their own. Okay, so maybe that is a generalisation, and it’s a fair call to say that if you were born and bred in this town I suppose you could be forgiven for having a warped sense of reality. Or a complete lack of reality. Mind you, when you consider that all they have to work with is the lack of subtlety and class of the typical born and bred LA male, you can see why a girl would drive around with the top down on her convertible in the knowledge that she is only ever one traffic light stop away from securing a business card and subsequently a few free drinks. Or if you happen to pull up next to me, then a head shot and subsequently a large quarter pounder meal at the nearest Micky D’s. You’re welcome.
So on that note, I’ll see you all again same time next week. Unless I don’t show up.
