#ThatAwkwardMomentWhen: @RealRonJeremy wouldn't leave my apartment (but his voicemail got 30K hits on YouTube)

Bad news, nerds. Double D did not accept my offer for el drinko, which prolly was for the better. 

Gather round, story time ...  

While I was in Oklahoma, I got a text from my OG LA buddy "Girl Alex" ...

See, I was crashing on her couch when I asked Viper out on MySpace. Alex and her roomie Chelsie (who I met at the Playboy Mansion on the shuttle) not only were there for our "first date," but they were the ones who got all the juicy details when I came home. (This was when I lost everything I owned in the cockroach infestation - I crashed on their couch.) 

FTR, there were no juicy details; he never got to second base. Really great guy, but not even a lingering peck. We went out at least four or five times, and I eventually got bored, horny, & mostly confused. Living out this scene (STRICTLY from the female perspective) was uncomfortable at 23:

(David is very much not gay, btw. Am still not sure why nothing ever happened between us.

1. I mean, there was an age gap ... 

2. the fact that I stalked him on Myspace ... (totally normal) 

&

3. the fact that I have an obsession with collecting stories with random obscure celebrities.

Are you an a-lister?

Get out of my face. You're boring.

Get out of my face. You're boring.

Wait!! ::said to my girlfriend/ and or imaginary friend in the grocery store also witnessing this moment:: OMG!! That's the guy that was in the Lifetime movie with Alyssa Milano circa 1995!!!! I'm not sure if it's psychological, and somehow they seem more "attainable" - but it's a thing, and if you're in public, I am going to find you and make it weird for both of us describing exactly what you were wearing, and the (down to the minute) time you spent on camera in each scene.

I can't even help it, I love media. This is why you want/need me on your trivia team for anything entertainment based. 

Anywho, the last time I saw David/Viper was the night my friends and I discussed anal sex in front of Chord Overstreet and Emma Roberts. True story. That was weird.)

That Monday when I got back, I texted asking if she was free and Tuesday night (the day before D Day), we agreed to meet up at the Parlor on Yucca on our way home.

DONE! I texted back.

We had recently seen each other a few weeks back (that was the night I got the piggy back ride from the shaman, and was thanked by a girl I met at a party years ago for not having a threesome with her. Weird and apparently a trend), but outside of that, I haven't talked to any of my OG LA friends since pre- Talk Nerdy. It's not easy watching one of your friends quite literally go off the grid, so while I did what I had to do, I LOVE the fact that all these years later nothing has changed.

How many friends let you put them in a shopping cart at 22 and still talk to you almost a decade later?

TRUE FRIENDS, BITCHES!

Thankfully, no one was injured which is shocking since I can't fucking drive - anything - ever.

Thankfully, no one was injured which is shocking since I can't fucking drive - anything - ever.

We have so many stories, Alex said laughing.

Yeah, I said, and so many things I want to forget.

I continued, it was almost a decade ago that I was sleeping on your couch.

NO WAY, she said with her mouth open.

Do the math - we're in 2016 now, I lost everything I owned a few days after 7.7.07. My mom had come out for that 4th of July to celebrate my newly-found independence from Noah.

I can't believe we didn't get into more trouble in our early 20s, she said laughing (while I thought about it).  We never did "the club thing." We had friends come into town and we'd go to a club (after complaining for the first hour how much we hated being there), but mostly it was Happy Endings (pre it being SUPER douchey), the Saddle Ranch (WHILE it was super douchey), and The Woods - but no clubs.

Wow, I thought mentally flipping through my Facebook photos during that time, we really did create our own fun. We always did our own thing on our own terms never caring about anyone else's - all because we had each other.

THE best friends a girl could ask for (THANK YOU PLAYBOY MANSION SHUTTLE!!!).

The next morning, D Day, I scouted my building for David Duchovny. See, they were filming in my building, so I did what any normal girl would do (upon freaking out at visual confirmation), I turned to twitter ...

Click here to read the full post

After I published the story, I walked downstairs to take Buster for a walk. ::cough cough:: hoping to run into the Double D.

I found no such luck. 

Bee tee dubs, I talk up a "big game" of asking David out, when the reality is I'd not only NOT have sex with him (I don't like thinking about a place where, uh, so many others have gone before), but also, I'd strictly be doing it for a story and for the ability to check "have a conversation with Hank Moody about writing" off my bucket list. 

Obvi in my brain he's a person, not a fictional character, but the heart wants what it wants & my heart wants a convo with the one and only Hank Moody.

Obvi in my brain he's a person, not a fictional character, but the heart wants what it wants & my heart wants a convo with the one and only Hank Moody.

Looking back, it seems kind of cruel to ask a guy out who happens to be in your apartment building if you're not going to put out. (Obvi, he wouldn't think we were  going to my apartment to knit a sweater.) 

I should have learned from that one time with Ron Jeremy ...

<tangent> Years ago, I helped out my neighbor with this film he was doing called "Fear of Flying." Ron Jeremy's good friend lived in our building, so he paid Ron $1,000 cash to make a cameo, and I was asked to be Ron's girlfriend. (I had also met Ron previously years ago at the Playboy Mansion. It never occurred to me until recently how much those Playboy parties shaped my experiences in LA. More on that later ...)

I was 23 here 

I was 23 here 

We need you in a bra and school girl skirt, he asked.

Dude, I'm not doing a fucking porn, I shot back pissed.

No, no, he said. He's just doing a quick cameo and we need a hot girl to call him "back to bed."

It didn't sound any better in my head, but wanting to help out my friend, I said not a problem. Guarantee me no nudity.

None, he said.

I filmed my scene, and it took all of about an hour. I wrapped, went downstairs to walk my dog, and before I could reach the door, I heard a knock.

I look through the peep hole and see 

RON FUCKING JEREMY ....

OUTSIDE OF MY DOOR ...

(He asked which unit was mine, and wanted me to uh, inspect his unit.)

He knew I was in there, so it wasn't like I could play possum with my punani.

FUCK, I thought thinking quickly and grabbing my phone to text my neighbor Katie (WHO THANK GOD WAS HOME). I explained the situation, and she said she would be right up.

I opened the door, as Ron pushed his way inside (my apartment not myself). 

I have never found him attractive - at all. He's a novelty and a legend for having a big penis and sticking it in a lot of things. Besides, para mi, foreplay starts with mental stimulation, and there is NOTTHIIINNNNGGG in his situation that I find stimulating.

Every second that passed felt like an hour as I wondered exactly HOW WEIRD this was going to get. Moments later came a knock and as I opened the door I hugged Katie thinking THANK GOD!

Ron, however, is still thinking about one thing and one thing only ... 

He then took one look at Katie, who is absolutely beautiful and thought not of the cockblock, that I THOUGHT I was creating, but rather assumed I was a freaky freak (not entirely false) and down for a threesome.

Ron then grabbed my hand and put it on the outside of his sweatpants and I FREEAKKKEEEEDDDDDD.

1. The size - no. no. no. Is that a third leg? or unborn twin? 

2. I DIDN'T ASK TO TOUCH YOUR PENIS THROUGH YOUR PANTS!!! I'M BARELY ABLE TO SPEAK I AM SO FREAKED OUT AND THIS IS LITERALLY THE MOST AWKWARD MOMENT OF MY LIFE. I CAN'T EVEN TYPE THIS WITHOUT IT IN CAPS BECAUSE EVEN MY INNER MONOLOGUE IS SCREAMING REMEMBERING THIS MOMENT.

Did I mention he was wearing a t-shirt, sweatpants and crocs? Super attractive. 

Katie was absolutely shocked any of this was even happening, so as a buffer she offered to take a photo.

She took this ...

Figuring this was all he was going to get, he then lifted my shirt up (WITHOUT ASKING PERMISSION) and signed my breast (over my bra thank GOD).

Stunned, I pulled my shirt back down, as he gave us Ron Jeremy branded rolling papers and asked for my number. I'd like to take you to this event, he said. 

I ... uh ... sure ... (knowing it was going to be an insta-block, but awkward story I could maybe tell one day - mission accomplished, Friel).

He then left, and a few hours later I received this vmail:

Katie and I both agreed afterwards that that was one of the strangest moments of our lives.

Your life, Jen, she said. This is totally normal for you isn't it? 

Uh, this was new, I texted back. 

BTW, I am STILL to this day shocked that a fucking VOICEMAIL has 30K views on YouTube. There's "social media strategy" right there. Garnered a lot of traffic, so I guess I should quit complaining.

Anyway, back to the story ... </tangent>

The next morning,  I got a message on Facebook from one of the first guys I dated in LA (asking if I was back in town).

Yep, I messaged back.

Drinks, he said, Laurel Hardware.

Done, I texted back.

I did the math (because this is what you have to do when you're old and think everything happened six months ago), Romeo was for sure the first guy I had dated in '04 (I moved in April, and dated him two weeks later). After the "first time" we "broke up," I was still a kid and couldn't get into bars (I was 19). While I did have a fake ID, it wasn't great, so it was hit or miss if I could get in. I didn't care about drinking, but the social element of being in a new place and not being able to go out SUCKEEEDDD.

To meet people, I got on Match.com (during their "free communication weekends"), and used local AOL chats. I met a SHOCKING amount of people pre-dating sites, pre-dating anything! This was so underground, I remember my buddy not wanting us to ever admit to anyone we met online.

Here we are back in 05 at my first Weenie Roast. I'm wearing pig tails (facepalm, Friel): 

We both ordered "Gangsters" (signature drink) as we shot the shit.

Timing was the only factor in us not "actually dating." He's an awesome human being! We bonded digitally initially over a love/ obsession with the Simpsons, and because of MySpace and Facebook kept in touch over each others musings.

Great, great guy - not my guy.

You weren't even legal to drink when we first met, he admitted.

I was JUST doing that math the other day. I was legally an adult, but couldn't legally drink.

Cheers, we both said lifting our drinks.

B now has a fancy pants job that runs parallel to what I do in tech. He had no idea that Talk Nerdy sold to CBS, (am waiting to hear the status of the put pilot literally any second now) and I haven't publicly (yet) talked about a lot of other things I'm involved in. While the obvious connection was there professionally, (which neither of us connected) it was also nice to talk to someone you've known for so long. There's none of that BS "getting to know you" shit, we just laughed our asses off at our random adventures as we promised for more in the future.

Done, I said downing my second drink.

After we were done, I texted the boy I enjoy getting naked with, acting out an IRL Facebook poke.

He was out and about in downtown with his new roommate/ old friend, and we agreed to meet out for a drink.

After a handful of nerdy stories (they are two extremely intelligent people that actually managed to graduate from MIT), we retired to his bedroom, but not before the boy sent me a photo of his roomie trying to find my butt print.

<tangent> Before he arrived, we had sex in (almost) every room/surface of his generously sized (there is a theme there) apartment.

The boy then picked me up (gently but passionately) placing my completely naked body against the window assisting in making an impression.

There, he said. Now your butt.

DONE! I said mooning the window with a shockingly small but extremely concentrated butt print.

My butt is that small?

Aw, that's kinda cute, I said slightly disappointed it didn't resemble a Kardashian. 

BTW, these guys went to college together and borderline qualify for common law domestic partnership. I would NOT recommend doing this to a new roommate - ever. 

</tangent>

We then poked each other until we passed out, waking up the next morning (on a fucking mattress on the floor), at 7:12 am via a text notification from my father: 

I turned over to naked boy next to me, and laughed thinking, if only my father knew what was happening in this exact moment ...

<tangent> See, the day before (while hiding from embarrassment from DD), I saw on Facebook that Sting and Peter Gabriel were uniting for tour. Our daddy/daughter bonding is going to see concerts together. We've seen Sting/Paul Simon, Springsteen (because one must see the boss with "the boss"), and Pitbull/ Enrique Iglesias (that one was my choice). We're both HUGE Gabriel fans, from Genesis days, so this one seemed like a no brainer. </tangent>

I saw naked boy butt, as I said "nice ass" and told him about the concert. 

I'm really excited, I explained. (Not speaking of the present visual, although that was an added bonus.) 

That's awesome you guys have that, he said. 

I think so too, I said smiling. 

The next day (Friday for those counting - I think I lost track at this point), I reached out to my gf (who is going through a not so nice break up) and told her she needed to pull her head out of her ass.

"The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else." 

True story, and words to live by. 

I told her she had no choice but to come to Cabo Cantina on Sunset, to celebrate their 2 fors: 

2 for the price of 1 drink

2 for some flirting

and 2 for the stops on the ride home in a LYFT

At this point, this division 2 was taking 1 for the team. GIRLFRIEND DOWN!! 

We had an amazing night, and it was interesting for me to be on the flipped side of the dating coin. 

Homie don't take shit no more. I don't view guys as being "good" or "bad" like I used to; they just "are" and everyone is just "being." 

I, for the first time in my life, ABSOLUTELY know what I want and am 100% going to get it. I'd love to be with a guy, but I'm also REALLY okay with my life and myself right now. It completely changes the paradigm, and makes you more attractive to men. 

Mind blowing to be out of the state of "want" and into the state of "do." 

I peaced out after she had boys at her beckon call (GO WING GIRL FRIEL!), and made sure to text her that she got home safe. (read about her night here) 

The next morning, I woke up with a 2 for 1 brain hangover, and remembered FUCK I promised I'd volunteer today.

Little did I know:

1) Where we were going ...

2) That I would bump into/ beat hug a REALLY old friend from the Playboy Manson that I haven't seen in 5? years? Easily.

3) That I would meet one of the stars of Jane the Virgin

AND that the tie in for all three of these occurrences would be an INCREDIBLE organization that I knew nothing about. 

OOOHHHH Los Angeles, thank you for being so wonderfully random!

Stay tuned ...