I already told you that I didn't aspire to be a waitress. So I guess I have to tell you my dirty little secret. I haven't told anyone this in years. Ready? Drum Roll - Deep Breath - I was an aspiring actress. Yes, it's true. In my teens I wanted nothing more than to pretend to be somebody else and to be loved and adored by millions. Now, given that I had a slight substance abuse problem and the attention span of a housefly, this was never to be. I did acquire my SAG card playing an evil drug dealing punk rocker on a Christian television show. The character's name was Grace Jitlov (that's voltage backward, clever writer types). That was my one and only union job. My agent folded because one of the partners put all the revenue up his nose. It was the eighties after all. After that, I lost my momentum. It was questionable to begin with, but there you have it. Nothing interesting or new, just screwed up high school kid in Southern California; drops out of school with delusions of fame and fortune. I had to get a job or my mom would throw me out.
I was really young, really blonde, and cute enough. A friend of a friend got me a job at the "Now-Not-So-Famous-Moustache-Cafe" in "oh-so-trendy West Los Angeles." The owner was a volatile French guy with a huge handlebar moustache and a weakness for cute young blondes. I'll call him Pierre. Now I told you that Pierre liked blondes and I swear, every waitress in that restaurant sported varying shades of bottled blonde hair. Other than the fact that I had never taken an order, carried a plate, or even picked up a tray, I fit in nicely.
To be continued!!!!!!
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