#WTF: To orgy, or not to orgy ... that is the question

No intro needed. Maestro: 

I had a really weird week work wise, and after traveling non-stop for the last (what feels like forever), I decided to hit up el rolodex-o and reconnect with some friends I haven't seen in a while. 

First up was my buddy Chris.

Everyone say hi Chris.  

Everyone say hi Chris.  

Hi Chris. 

Hi Chris. 

What I like most about Chris is that he calls people out on their bullshit. He's got the biggest heart, but also a super grounded head, AND he's hilarious. 

Here, watch this video: 

Let's meet at the Den, I texted. 

Done. 

As we sat down at the bar, I looked over and noticed a book on cats: 

The single woman's guide to life, I said laughing. I'm keeping this with us for the night. 

He laughed, as we ordered our drinks.

How have you been, I asked? 

Good, he said. Got a new show on MTV. 

CONGRATS dude!

Thanks, it's the biggest producing credit I've had yet. 

So fucking cool, I said smiling. Never doubted for a second. 

How are you?  

I'm okay, I said. I've been traveling a lot, so that's hard, but I'll do whatever it takes to get this company up and running. 

You're really hard on yourself, you know that right? 

What do you mean? 

He then grabbed my shoulders, and said "okay, I need you to listen and not cringe and want to die on the inside. I am now going to pay you a compliment. You ready?" 

Yes, I said laughing, but also secretly cringing. 

You are one of the most interesting people I have ever met. You are so crazy smart, one hell of a writer, and you're weird. I don't even know what you actually do professionally but I don't doubt for a second that you 100% kill it. You kill everything. Look at you, he said commenting on my awesome overalls. You dress so weird, and yet it's you. You truly don't give a fuck and do you know how rare that is? 

I tried to interrupt at this point, but he wasn't having it. 

AND the fact that your face is your face and you're every fucking guy's type is insane. Quit being so hard on yourself. You're already so successful, and it's only going up from here. 

Thank you, I said. I just don't know how to not be hard on myself. It still blows my mind that I  get away with half of this shit, and then I'm naturally so curious, I want to see how far down the rabbit hole I can go. 

You know how to not be hard on yourself? 

No, I said. 

You quit being hard on yourself. That's it. 

Thank you, I said smiling, as we took a sip of our drinks and glanced through the book. 

All of these cats look really sad, we both noticed, as we flipped through. 

I LOVE CATS, said the older woman next to me SUPER excited that this book existed.

Here, I said handing the book over to her. 

Oh no, she said. I can't. 

I then look closer and notice that she's starting to cry. 

I grab her a cocktail napkin and hop one barstool over attempting to console. What exactly, I wasn't sure ... but this was definitely happening.

I gave her a hug as she started telling me all about her feral cat that passed away. I loved her so much, I gave her everything that I could. 

I'm so sorry, I said. We do, we love them so much and it's so hard letting them go. 

I can't let her go, she said FULL BLOWN CRYING AT THIS POINT (not even TRYING to hide it)

I know, I know, I said hugging her again. How long has it been? I ask pulling away from the embrace. 

Two years, she said still sniffling.

Two. 

Long.

Years. 

Having nothing else to say at this point, I excused myself to use the restroom.

I've seen men cry at bars over pussy, but this? Never. 

When I got back, I sat with my back against my new friend. Chris was hilariously shocked as I put the book away. 

OH, I said super excited and totally pretending the last 5 minutes didn't happen, did you read in the news this week that octopuses are actually alien? 

No, he said. 

Seriously, it went viral in my social feeds. I'm not sure what the proper terminology is, but basically their genetic construction is a statistical anomaly. 

Did you just say "statistical anomaly" at a bar? 

Yes, I said super excited. 

He laughed saying, oh Jen.  

Then, the next night, I met up with my buddy Mark, whose a producer on the West Texas Investors Club (on CNBC 10 pm Tuesday nights #shamelessplug)

We met over at Barneys beanery, ordering beers and nachos. 

How have you been? he asked. 

Great, I said, just super super busy. 

I see your posts, he said. You're all over the place. 

Yeah, I said. People don't see how much work everything is behind the scenes. I'm out literally every night either dinners or drinks. I don't even have food in my house, I admitted, which was super embarrassing this week when my fridge broke. 

My building manager called saying she could help throw out any food that was still inside. I told her not to worry about a jar of olives and condiments. 

She paused, and judged. I know because I felt it. 

Somewhere nearing my bedtime, and around our last round, I got up to use the restroom and to my surprise, was greeted by something furry in the stall. 

OMG, the owner said stepping out of her stall. He just ran right to you!!! He doesn't like people and look - he LOVES you!! 

I step out of the stall, and get down to pet my new friend. 

This is the official Barneys Beanery dog. 

Hi baby, I said in a cutesey "I'm talking to a dog" voice.

I haven't even been here in the longest time, she said adjusting her pants. I got into a really bad car accident and almost lost my leg. I was scared to leave the house. 

Oh, I said still on the ground petting the dog. 

Do you want some blow? she asks taking out a baggie and a key. 

Oh no, I said shocked. I'm good, but thank you. 

She takes her bump, as I stand up and walk out. 

Here, she said. Come talk to my friends. 

Fuck, I thought wanting to be anywhere but there. 

I then quickly introduced myself as she told the group how much her dog loved me. 

Nice meeting you all, I said, but I have to get back to close out our tab. 

I sat back down in the booth, telling Mark what just happened. 

IT'S THURSDAY, I stressed. I GOT OFFERED BLOW IN THE BATHROOM OF BARNEY'S BEANERY ... ON A THURSDAY!!! 

He laughed saying, only you. 

The next night, I hit up my best friend Steph saying we're going on a surprise adventure (I needed to blow off steam). I told her to dress casual and I'd be picking her up. 

Done, she texted. 

We then Ubered over to XLanes in downtown for an evening of gabbing and games.

Cheers to our 20 year friendship, I said toasting our glasses of champagne. 

We caught up on work projects, dating, and sometime after our fourth game of Mario Kart, we decided to leave. 

I rarely go out downtown, and definitely not ever in Little Tokyo, so some exploring needed to happen. 

As we were on our way out, we saw a guy winning big at the claw game. (He had like four little beanie baby type toys.)

We cheered him on for a moment, and without thinking, I asked him if I could have one. 

Sure! he said also without thought. 

Thanks, I say placing my new friend inside his new home. 

I fucking love overalls. 

I fucking love overalls. 

I can't believe that guy just gave that to you, she said. 

People constantly surprise me. All you have to do is ask, and you truly will receive. Blows my mind how far you can take it, and constantly keeps me on my toes. 

I get it, she said. I also love how ghetto looking this beanie baby is. 

I laughed saying, we are SO Connecticut. 

The next morning, I slept in and went to spin class. 

When I left, I saw that I had a text from my friend with an address. 

(He had invited me to a party earlier in the week, but for some reason I assumed it was the following Saturday, and not this Saturday.) 

I then raannnnnnnn to my car (realistically knowing that I wasn't going to be at the party for at least an hour)

I immediately put down all the windows and opened the sun roof hoping to soak up some of the moisture in my hair as I drove.  

I then quickly showered and threw on a swimsuit, jeans, a sheer tank, and boat shoes. (I laughed at how weird this combination seemed, yet it totally worked.) 

 I stopped off en route to get a bottle of wine and arrived an hour later from the initial text exchange. (Which is pretty fucking impressive considering the drive was 20 minutes.) 

As I arrived, I caught my friend getting in an Uber. 

Fuck, I said, I wanted to talk to you. 

Go enjoy yourself. Have fun. I'll be back later. 

Cool, I said. Thanks for the invite. 

I then walked up the driveway and there was a big ass security guard with a clipboard. 

They're not playing around, I thought. 

I then gave the name that I was told to give, and then I gave my own name as well. 

You're not on the list, he said, but you're cute and by yourself. 

Here, he said handing me the pink bracelet. 

I purposefully placed it high up on my arm (not wrist), so I could easily slide it off (should someone want to come in as I was leaving)

Stand over there, he said pointing to a minivan. 

Are you coming in the shuttle, asked the driver? 

Wait, there's a shuttle? Where the hell is this house? 

Up, he said. You don't want to walk it. 

I hopped in the stranger's shuttle and with a quick jolt and some serious torque, we made it up the very large hill. 

As I exited the shuttle, my jaw dropped. 

This was pretty overload. Both the property and people look like something out of a Pussycat Dolls video.

This is definitely not "a little pool party at my friend's friend's house." (It was the same reaction I had when I went to the Summit Series Malibu beach house back in the day. Everyone had these intense eyes, and were legitimately some of the most attractive people I had ever seen.)

Holy shit, I thought composing myself. (Be cool Friel, be cool.) 

As I went over to the bar to grab a drink, I looked over and spotted a familiar face ... 

It's Ronnie from the Jersey Shore. 

This is all too weird, I thought turning to the internet for support. 

Cardinal rule of the internet is that it's pics or it didn't happen. 

Cardinal rule of the internet is that it's pics or it didn't happen. 

I sat down, by the DJ and as I did so the gentleman next to me started talking. 

Is this your kind of scene, he asked? 

No, I said, but I do learn a lot about fashion trends at these type of parties. 

That's smart, he said asking if I was single. 

Yes, I said. 

Good to know. 

I'm actually more of a dad-bod kind of girl, however this party might have swayed me. 

I'm actually more of a dad-bod kind of girl, however this party might have swayed me. 

I then left my new friend deciding to explore the property. Somewhere after my first full lap, I sat down by the pool enjoying the (now) setting sunset. 

As I snapped this photo ... 

another gentleman came up, commenting on how beautiful the photo looked. 

Thanks, I said introducing myself. I'm Jen. 

Salvador, he said. 

Oh, like Dali? 

He laughed saying I was the first girl to ever make that connection. Most women say Salvador, like Ferragamo. 

That tells me a lot where your head is at. Are you single? 

Yep, I said taking a sip of my wine. 

Good to know. 

I then excused myself, and wandered off to the quiet part of the house (by the porta potties - classy Friel). A big group had started to gather on the couches, so I decided to make friends. 

Before sitting down, I looked inside as many glasses as I could to find out what people were "on." See, when you do drugs (which typically happens at these kinds of parties), you can't drink alcohol (dehydration). The lines at the bar weren't very long, so I had to assume ... but we all know what happens when you assume: 

As the introductions made their rounds, one woman in particular caught my eye. I asked her where she was from, and what she did. I work in TV, she said, I'm a sportscaster. I used to be a pro athlete for track, but now I do broadcast. 

Wow, I said. That's really impressive. 

OMG, she then said turning towards me. 

What's wrong, I ask. 

My ex is here, and with his friends.

Oh, I said. Which ones? 

As she went to point they looked over so we quickly had to look away. 

Alright, I said getting up from the couch. Let's walk through the crowd and when you see him, say a code word. Say the word "bananas." 

"The problem with the code word bananas is that everyone knows the code word is bananas." 

Maybe I was the one going bananas, as I laughed at how ridiculous this statement sounded coming out of the mouth of such a gorgeous human being. 

Let me use the restroom, she said. 

As we walked over to the bathrooms, we saw the (now) massive line. 

There's another one upstairs, I said remembering the extra bathroom from my exploring. 

When we walked upstairs, we saw no line, but as we got closer to the door we heard what sounded like a shower. 

Who showers at a party? I asked. 

My new friend then went downstairs, as I decided to wait at the top of the stairs to see if whoever was going to wrap up. 

Moments later, a gentleman walks up and I tell him that someone's showering. 

He shot me back this puzzled look, and I could tell instinctively he was deaf. 

<tangent> Back in my late teens, I was working at a local modeling agency teaching classes to adults (which is a hilarious sentence), and one of my students was deaf. Instead of just mouthing things to her, I taught myself basic sign language and still to this day know how to sign the alphabet. </tangent> 

I signed s-h-o-w-e-r. 

He shook his head that he understood. He then walked up to the door, made a square in his hands. 

The little bastard wants to pick the lock, I thought. This is great and I totally know how to do it. 

I take out my strongest credit card from my wallet, and as I do he quickly pops the lock. 

The door opens and the guy who was showering exits (understandably) pissed. 

GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, he yells. 

My new friend then tried entering the bathroom (still which was SUPER ballsy), and the guy got even more enraged asking if he heard him. 

WAIT, I said literally stepping in between them. He's fucking deaf, I shouted. Leave him alone, and we'll use the restroom downstairs. 

Shocked that I stood up to him, he immediately backed down, and we quickly dispersed. 

Jesus, I thought going back to the newscaster not saying anything. 

I'm going to see the panel, she said (apparently after finally using the restroom)

Wait, there's a panel? I asked. 

Yeah, three speakers. 

Why are there three speakers, I asked? I'm so confused. 

I don't know either, but I don't want to be disrespectful. 

Of course, I said taking the exact opposite approach and peacing out to the nearest exit. 

See, the party had started so early and people were so fucked up that there was NO WAY they were going to sit through a panel. That means people will be looking for ubers, and it's going to turn into a shit show. (Like it always does in the hills.) 

Knowing I had no reception, I hopped onto the shuttle (solo cup and all), and asked the two people in the car if they had ubers already. 

Would either of you mind if I drive with you just to the bottom of the hill where I have reception? 

Not a problem, said one guy who also had his car. It's a bit down the road, are you cool with that? 

Absolutely, I said, happy that I chose to wear my comfy leopard boat shoes. 

He then introduced himself as Clinton, and explained his passion of helping underprivileged kids receive educations. He's from Indiana, but has lived all over the world with the various companies he's built. 

That sounds very rewarding, I said getting in the car as we drove down the hill. 

It absolutely is. 

You can just drop me off here, I said literally at the end of the street and Laurel Canyon. 

I can't just leave you on the street corner, he said. It's a guy thing. 

Thank you, I said recalling countless parties that I had to walk home from down Laurel Canyon. (Very unsafe, and I do not recommend.) 

There's a market around the corner we can stop. 

Done, he said pulling in moments later. 

We then exchanged emails and I hopped in my Uber heading home undecided on what I wanted to do with the rest of the evening. Because I had the bracelet, I could theoretically change and go back - but I was still 50/50.

Yes, the guys there were brutally hot and all wanted to know if I was single. 

But did I really want to do drugs and mess up my entire next day? 

decisions ... decisions ... 

As I opened the door to my apartment, I was greeted by my favorite face in the world. Suddenly my "rough" decision became a "ruff" decision.  

This face. That's all I wanted. 

This face. That's all I wanted. 

Buster and I then watched YouTube videos until we both fell asleep. See, after all that I did end up with an animal in my bed.