Okay, this was definitely one crazy weekend!
Friday night, Max and a bunch of people went to see Grindhouse, the Tarantino/Rodriguez double feature, at Graumann's Chinese Theater. I decided to skip since movies about women with machine guns for legs are not that interesting to me.
At about 1:45 a.m., Max called me. I was dead asleep, so much so that I couldn't even find my phone. After groping around for it in the dark for a bit, I finally found it. He had left a message. I figured he was probably calling to let me know he was staying out extra late. Or maybe he was calling from jail. What I did not expect was this: "SAREET - you won't believe this but Lisa has a friend who can get us into the after-after party for Grindhouse AT QUENTIN TARANTINO'S HOUSE so you should call back right away IF YOU WANT TO GO TO QUENTIN TARANTINO'S HOUSE!!"
Of course I called him back right away. Turns out he wasn't drunk and crazy, it was true. Lisa, who has long been renowned for being "in the know" about after parties and such (thanks again Lisa!), did indeed have a friend whose roommate is friends with Rosario Dawson, who is in Grindhouse, which was, as noted, directed by Tarantino. At that particular moment, the directions to Tarantino's house were unknown, but Lisa was on standby for them. I briefly debated whether or not this was really worth leaving bed but then decided since I sleep EVERY night, but have only ONCE had an invite to go to Quentin Tarantino's house, the decision was obvious. Even if it ended up being a wild goose chase and we didn't end up with directions or got turned away at the door, it'd still make for a good story. I jumped out of bed and slapped on make-up faster than I have ever in entire my life. Actually the only other time I had to get ready as quickly as that was just the last time I went to the Prince concert. WHY OH WHY do I never have time to pull myself together when I'm about to go to a celebrity event??? Why must I always look like - well, - like I had just rolled out of bed??? Really, I need about two hours to look remotely human - 20 mins just does not cut it.
Anyway, I ran into the car, got directions from Max and Lisa and WENT TO TARANTINO'S HOUSE, way up in the Hollywood hills. I'm not sure what I expected, but I can tell you what I DIDN'T expect was a small gathering of only 30 people or so. Apparently he'd been turning people away at the door who he didn't know, but Max and Lisa were able to get in since they "knew" someone, and I was lucky that he was tending bar when I arrived so no one was guarding the gate. Lisa's "hook-up" advised us not to get drinks while Quentin Tarantino was the bartender as he was asking everyone who the hell they were. Really, in hindsight, we could have gone to ask for drinks - worst case he'd kick us out, and getting kicked out would have made for an excellent ending to this story. However, at the same time, we really didn't want to get Lisa's friend's roommate in trouble, so basically we just hung out on the patio and stared. He seemed really nice and happy and was blending up drinks and having a good time. The bar was in a little room that had a juke box, a small tv in the corner that was playing Grindhouse, a photo booth, a small couch, an unbelievably lifelike and thus creepy mannequin of GoGo Yurabi (the japanese school girl killer from Kill Bill - which coincidentally I dressed up as for Halloween several years ago) and a ms. pacman arcade table. There was a sliding door to the patio, outside of which there were a few patio chairs, etc. And that was where we lurked for the next hour or so.
At one point I ventured a bit further into the house to use the guest bathroom, which was lovely and had a shower in it as well. I briefly considered on a scale of 1 to 10 how randomly funny it would be to actually take a shower in Quentin Tarantino's house. Then, this story would be the story of "The Time I Took a Shower at Quentin Tarantino's House" rather than "
The Time I Went to a Party at Quentin Tarantino's House" but then I decided it would be the type of thing that would only be funny to me. And awfully difficult to explain to the police.
Instead, Max and I went into the photobooth. We couldn't quite figure out how it worked, since it seemed to need $3 in quarters, but it also seemed to work for free. After a bit we got it started accidentally, but we weren't really sitting down. Turns out it was low on ink anyway, so the pictures didn't really come out, but there's one that just barely did.
And here it is, our souvenir from "The Time We Went to a Party at Quentin Tarantino's House!!"