Yes I am still in LA, I don’t want to go home. I’m thinking two more weeks. I want to stay in a hotel close to my friends and spend nights doing things most would only dream of…..for hours.
I would like to backtrack and write about something that I believed I would never hear said to me, which was: “You’ll never work in this town again!” Well not exactly, but that’s the gist. Only in LA!
About a week before I left Chicago, I got an email from a photographer who wanted to know what my rates were for a photo session that he could use on his site. I told him, and of course it was too much. I asked him to call and he did. His name was Ben Inca–something that made me want to say Gesundheit. He ran some boob site that I never heard of with a name that escapes me. He said he liked my pics, but thought he could do better work, more professional photos. He also complimented me on my tits, ass and face.
We agreed to do a trade which is something I rarely do anymore. He seemed nice and I wanted to see what he could do. We then realized that we would not be in LA at the same time. I said I might return to LA if I could a week or two after my initial visit. He asked me to let him know.
Next I received a ton of phone calls and text messages regarding several postings I had placed in the LA area. I don’t save numbers until I meet someone regardless of who they are or what they do. Several of these texts were from Ben. I had no clue who he was so I had to keep asking. Even when he did identify himself as Ben, I was still clueless. He eventually told me he was the photographer and wanted news about my possible second trip. This was before I left so I still wasn’t sure what my plans were.
Incidentally, I like to think I start out with a plan but most of the time my plans change dramatically. This explains the original 3 week CA trip that turned into a 6 to 8 week trip.
I realized I did want to go to SF on the 12th to see The Justin, and I got a great deal on the hotel…see video. I informed Ben and he was bummed but we figured there was still time in the future. I felt guilty never knowing who he was when he called or texted which is why the next happened…
I got into LA Friday night and later saw Mr. Bald. Similar to Mr. Big on that Sex in the City Show. Yet Mr. Bald is poor and bald. Also, I do not want to marry or end up with Mr. Bald as Carrie did in the series. I just wanted to see him and possibly give him a pity fuck. He said it had been way too long.
I was on my way to see Mr. Bald when I got a call around midnight from Ben Gesundheit! He said his plane was delayed until around 3pm the next day and he wanted to get together early to do a 1/2 hour shoot with me. Remember when I said I was feeling guilty?…I agreed to meet him at 10:30am.
This was stupid on my part. I knew Mr. Bald and I would be up all night drinking and catching up on the last three years. We were up until four am drinking and talking about how cold Chicago is compared to LA. It was fun and nice. It was also planned, unlike my shoot for the following morning.
I woke up at 9:30 at Mr. Bald’s and proceeded to text Ben that I would not be able to make the shoot. I know its lame but Ben seemed to like to text and I was too raspy to talk–fucking Jack Daniels!
Here we go!
First: the shoot was for free! FREE! Second: he wanted to do the shoot in my hotel room. So these “more professional” looking pictures would have looked like all the hooker in hotel room pics I see everywhere. Third: he set the appointment up at the last minute at midnight. Fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh: it was FREE! FREE! FREE! FREE!
As I was sleeping off the remnants of Jack Daniels and sex with the ex, I received these messages from Gesundheit!:
“you are flaking via text message an hour before?”
And
“I’m going to let the other producers I know that your simply a flaky whore without an ounce of professionalism. Your fat stupid ass wont more of my time.”
I know you are all thinking, no! Stop! Alix! Please! Dignity!
Fuck that!
One: I counted 20 texts sent by Gesundheit! during the course of a week. He likes to text!
Two: if one is going to use apostrophes in texts, they should at least be consistent. He starts out with I’m, which is correct. Yet, in this phrase: “your simply a flaky whore”, the esteemed mogul used “your” which is possessive. This implies that I own a flaky whore. I do not. What he meant was you are, spelled you’re. This is one of my biggest pet peeves and since he decided to use the apostrophe initially why not keep on using it? Dammit! An important influential person would know that, or at least have his assistant write the text! Also in the apostrophe realm, wont (used as a verb-I’m guessing since it came after a noun-pronoun in the notable producer’s text- means: to accustom (as a person), as to a thing; to be used to, as a routine (dictionary.com baby!). So my stupid fat ass, according to his ponderous text, is going to get used to or accustomed to more of his time. We all know he meant won’t, as in will not. Apostrophe!
Fuck I hate texting sometimes!
Three: he was so busy calling all his producer friends that he forgot the word “waste” which may have stopped me from even critiquing his texting language. Probably not, I hate the your/you’re mistake!
Four: lame put downs are always a waste of time. “Flaky whore”? Come on man! How about, “Alix you ignorant slut!” or to have fun with some pseudo alliteration, “screwy, psycho strumpet!” “Cunt” always works well no matter where you put it. And, “fat stupid ass”? Lets try, “Rubenesque, illiterate heiney face!”
Now I’m bored. I want to use “Donkey Punch” but writing it is enough.
Point is, I don’t care! I’m really glad I canceled on this guy. He reacted like a psychotic zit! His insults made me think he may have tried to kill me with geekery and puss. I really don’t want my friends to see an episode of Law and Order based on my murder as some lame poser-mogul LARPing party gone wrong.
I adore my photographers. I have a good relationship with the producers I know and work with. I love my fellow adult actors and actress friends. I don’t really need to make more of myself in the porn industry as an actress or model. I just want to have fun and bounce around ideas and scenarios. I want to experience it all so I can write it.
So if someone wants to waste their time blacklisting a small-time model from the Midwest, that’s fucking spectacular! I can write about it! I can talk about it and laugh with my friends about it! Now I’m the uber important fat ass whore who can make a producer cry!
