Kellie and I stand among the tourists in front of Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, waiting for our hop on hop off tour bus to arrive. She says this is the best way to see the sites, to give me a rather quick rundown of where I’m living. Later, we plan to take the TMZ bus, the late night one, and go celebrity hopping. It’s not exactly Kellie’s idea of fun, but I’m new and Hollywood is a novelty to me.
With our coffees in hand, we board the bus, taking the generic earbuds from the guide, and find a seat toward the rear of the bus. I lean back and close my eyes, letting the sun beat down on me. The heat is a definite plus. Idaho can be incredibly dreary at times and much cooler than I’m used to with South Carolina’s humidity, so I welcome California’s heat with open arms.
The tour guide tells us before we even leave, that people are starting to line up for the Jimmy Kimmel show. I glance at Kellie, who rolls her eyes. Yes, I want to go. I mean why not? I’m here and I should experience everything I can before I have to go home, because my return is inevitable. My parents won’t stand for me living here. It’s not an overprotective thing, at least not where they’re concerned, people in our family just don’t leave. We stay close. It’s how it’s always been and I’m not sure my parents are willing to change their ways. Maybe if it were my brother doing this instead, running off and lying about his whereabouts, they wouldn’t be as bothered, but he would never do something like this. Devoted to the family is how he rolls.
As the tour rolls along, they show us where River Phoenix died, on the sidewalk of this seedy looking place. I admit I had to look him up because that was way before my time. Kellie tells me that it’s common and that no one in Hollywood bats an eye about getting high. Sad, really. We go by the Laugh Factory, where famed comedians like Robin Williams, (rest his soul), Tim Allen and Ellen DeGeneres either performed or got their big break. He also lists the performers who have died. Like come on, dude. Is this a morbid tour of Los Angeles?
And I’m starting to think the only thing that happens on the famous Sunset Strip are drugs and comedy because our next landmark location is The Comedy Store which was started by the late Mitzi Shore. This name I do know. One night, Sofia told us she had a movie for us to watch, Encino Man. None of us h
ad heard of it, but she was very much in love with Brendan Fraser. So, we watched and laughed our asses off at Pauly Shore! It was one of the funniest movies I had seen in a long time and it became our “depressed” movie. Sad to say, one night we went out and tried to drink a slushie from the spout. The store owner was not thrilled with the mess we made.
When we arrive in Beverly Hills, Kellie grabs my hand and pulls me off the bus.
“What are we doing?”
“I want to show you something.”
I follow along, stopping and taking pictures of random buildings that look interesting. After a few minutes, I ask, “Where are we going?” Because we’re getting farther away from the bus.
“Where dreams are made.”
“And where is that, exactly?”
We turn down a street and my mouth drops open. On both sides of the street is every designer store you can think of. However, I’m confused. Neither of us went into fashion, so how does this equate to dreams.
“I don’t get it,” I tell her. “How are dreams made here? I probably can’t even afford a pair of socks.”
Kellie points. To her left is the very famous Rodeo Drive and to her right is the Beverly Wilshire where Julia Roberts had all her dreams come true.
I’m not Julia Roberts or her character, Vivian, but I appreciate seeing where Hollywood has come to life. “Are we able to go to movie sets?”
“Sure, we can do tours. Paramount, Warner Brothers, and Universal. We can do them all if you want.”
“I want. I so want.” I pull her into a hug. “Thank you, Kellie. I really needed this.”
“It’s my pleasure. Come on, we have a lot of the tour left and we want to make it back before the next bus leaves.”
Being a tourist is fun, but exhausting. Right now, I’m sitting on the deck, eyeing the pool, but I can’t bring myself to put my suit on and go down there. My feet are aching and while the hot tub would feel nice, there are more important things I need to do. Like, find a job. I realized that the money my dad transferred into my account isn’t going to last long here and putting things on my credit card is a major red flag. Of course, avoiding my parents is too, but right now, they’re content with a text in the morning and evening, letting them know I’m safe and secure in some fancy hotel. I figure, I have a few more days of pushing my parents off, maybe even fibbing a bit more by telling them we doubled back so Sofia could visit a relative or something, anything I can do to prolong the trip. Once they find out I’m here, well I can kiss my summer goodbye. I also don’t want to come off as a freeloader to Kellie. I know she won’t think of me as one, but the last thing I want to do is put a wedge between us.
Jobs though, while there are plenty, they’re not what I’m looking for. I’m not in a position to start a career here, so I need something in retail.
However, every job fitting the description is fast food. I don’t see myself wearing a uniform and taking orders for greasy fries. Although, telling my mother that her baby girl was flipping hamburgers at the local grease pit would be hilarious. She’d probably have me sent to some lab, so I could be deep cleaned.
I finally give up and close my phone. The only way to find a job is to get out there. In my room, I look up the nearest print center and send my glowing resume to them, requesting fifty copies. It’s still early enough in the day that I should be able to find a few spots to leave an application. After sending a quick text to Kellie, asking her where I can start looking, I map out my plan of attack, but not before calling Sofia.
“How is it?” she asks. No, hello or hey, just right to the point.
“Beautiful. Drive up here.”
“I can’t. I started work today.”
“Oh crap. I’m sorry for not calling sooner. I should’ve as soon as I woke up. Do you like it?”
“I love it,” she says. “The people are so nice, and the studio is amazing. The only problem I have is waking up before the sun is even willing to come up.”
“How long until you get on camera? I’m going to have to stream your broadcasts.”
“It’ll be a few months, I think. I have to learn the ropes and then I’ll be sent out on assignment.”