know a lot of people, which is a useful habit I picked up in college. When I am a bit tipsy, I am instantly cheerful and not so socially anxious. The key is that I can drink no more than two drinks because, after that, I go from making charming small talk to slurred rants.
Three Champagnes in, the pop singer brought up that she was firing her pediatrician and asked if anyone could recommend a doctor. One of my acquaintances from college, Asha, was a pediatrician in Santa Monica, so I excitedly recommended her, thinking this would be the beginning of a lifetime of Asha and me getting free tickets to see the pop star at the Staples Center. Imagine, me and Asha being pulled up onstage to get sung to! Why would I be invited, you ask? As the middleman, of course.
POP STAR: Oh, that’s so great. I’m really looking for someone young and cool. My last guy had really antiquated ideas.
ME: Asha is the best. And very young and cool. Unless of course you don’t want to get your kids vaccinated, hahaha.
The pop star froze and everyone went silent. Greta looked at me, eyes widening in horror. I could not have offended a group of people more quickly than if I had announced to a room of male comedy writers that the movie Caddyshack sucks (which I have done, and which did not go over very well). The point is, people were incredibly offended.
POP STAR: ( icily ) I’m actually leaving my pediatrician because of his outdated position on vaccinations and autism.
Now, had I been one Champagne in, I could’ve backtracked so deftly you would think I was Michael Jackson moonwalking across the stage on his Bad world tour. Even two Champagnes and I could’ve charmed my way out of this by pretending I was being ironic the whole time. But not three. Three glasses of anything alcoholic is like truth serum for me.
MINDY: ( slurry rant ) Oh God, Pop Star! Say it ain’t so. Say you aren’t one of those crazy Hollywood people who doesn’t believe in vaccination.
I glanced at Greta. Greta’s gaze was on the ground. Oh, no.
POP STAR: ( stone cold ) Actually, I am.
Within ninety seconds, Greta and I were in her Fiat, headed down Doheny out of the hills. I could see the worry pass over her eyes as we drove home. What will Mindy say about at-home births? Kabbalah? My psychic? She was silent and turned up the Justin Timberlake. We didn’t even stop for frozen yogurt on the way home. It was the closest to furious I had ever seen her.
The frayed edges of Greta’s and my relationship became more apparent. Her sweetness and accommodating personality also extended to beliefs that I ridiculed, and even thought were bad for humanity.
Still, Greta was all about forgiveness and getting over stuff. I had messed up, but she would look past it. She hugged me before I got out of the car and said she would call. I breathed a sigh of relief.
GONE BABY GONE
At the end of July, work started up again at The Office . I was back on the schedule of six-a.m. call times and staying in the writers’ room until nine p.m. We still grabbed dinner or got exhaustion shots sometimes, but I couldn’t go with Greta to screenings and baby showers anymore. In the beginning, Greta was fine with my busyness. We kept in close touch, texting at least twenty times a day. But then, as the weeks went by, I heard from Greta less and less. She told me she was working more, though for the life of me I still could not pinpoint exactly what her job was. One weekend in September, I was miffed that she couldn’t get iced green teas with me. I texted: “I MISS you!” and “Why are we not getting frozen yogurt together right now?!” using all the emoticons Greta herself had taught me. But more and more, my texts went unanswered. Once I read down our text chain and saw she had written the exact phrase “Hey QT. Love you miss you xoxo” three times, like it had been copied and pasted.
In mid-October, on Facebook, I saw photos of Greta after booty ballet class with a gorgeous actress in
Three Champagnes in, the pop singer brought up that she was firing her pediatrician and asked if anyone could recommend a doctor. One of my acquaintances from college, Asha, was a pediatrician in Santa Monica, so I excitedly recommended her, thinking this would be the beginning of a lifetime of Asha and me getting free tickets to see the pop star at the Staples Center. Imagine, me and Asha being pulled up onstage to get sung to! Why would I be invited, you ask? As the middleman, of course.
POP STAR: Oh, that’s so great. I’m really looking for someone young and cool. My last guy had really antiquated ideas.
ME: Asha is the best. And very young and cool. Unless of course you don’t want to get your kids vaccinated, hahaha.
The pop star froze and everyone went silent. Greta looked at me, eyes widening in horror. I could not have offended a group of people more quickly than if I had announced to a room of male comedy writers that the movie Caddyshack sucks (which I have done, and which did not go over very well). The point is, people were incredibly offended.
POP STAR: ( icily ) I’m actually leaving my pediatrician because of his outdated position on vaccinations and autism.
Now, had I been one Champagne in, I could’ve backtracked so deftly you would think I was Michael Jackson moonwalking across the stage on his Bad world tour. Even two Champagnes and I could’ve charmed my way out of this by pretending I was being ironic the whole time. But not three. Three glasses of anything alcoholic is like truth serum for me.
MINDY: ( slurry rant ) Oh God, Pop Star! Say it ain’t so. Say you aren’t one of those crazy Hollywood people who doesn’t believe in vaccination.
I glanced at Greta. Greta’s gaze was on the ground. Oh, no.
POP STAR: ( stone cold ) Actually, I am.
Within ninety seconds, Greta and I were in her Fiat, headed down Doheny out of the hills. I could see the worry pass over her eyes as we drove home. What will Mindy say about at-home births? Kabbalah? My psychic? She was silent and turned up the Justin Timberlake. We didn’t even stop for frozen yogurt on the way home. It was the closest to furious I had ever seen her.
The frayed edges of Greta’s and my relationship became more apparent. Her sweetness and accommodating personality also extended to beliefs that I ridiculed, and even thought were bad for humanity.
Still, Greta was all about forgiveness and getting over stuff. I had messed up, but she would look past it. She hugged me before I got out of the car and said she would call. I breathed a sigh of relief.
GONE BABY GONE
At the end of July, work started up again at The Office . I was back on the schedule of six-a.m. call times and staying in the writers’ room until nine p.m. We still grabbed dinner or got exhaustion shots sometimes, but I couldn’t go with Greta to screenings and baby showers anymore. In the beginning, Greta was fine with my busyness. We kept in close touch, texting at least twenty times a day. But then, as the weeks went by, I heard from Greta less and less. She told me she was working more, though for the life of me I still could not pinpoint exactly what her job was. One weekend in September, I was miffed that she couldn’t get iced green teas with me. I texted: “I MISS you!” and “Why are we not getting frozen yogurt together right now?!” using all the emoticons Greta herself had taught me. But more and more, my texts went unanswered. Once I read down our text chain and saw she had written the exact phrase “Hey QT. Love you miss you xoxo” three times, like it had been copied and pasted.
In mid-October, on Facebook, I saw photos of Greta after booty ballet class with a gorgeous actress in
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