“Come on, let’s go to the bathroom.”
Sasha grabbed my hand and slowly began pulling me through the crowd towards the bathroom.
“Oh man,” Sasha said after looking at my face in the light of the bathroom.
The only type of mirror in the ladies bathroom was a distorted piece of reflective plastic, which only gave you a general idea of how you looked. I had to depend on Sasha’s dramatic facial expressions to tell me exactly what was wrong with my face.
“It's gonna be a shiner. You're swelling a little already,” she
said.
“Awe, damn it! How am I supposed to explain this to
Sheldon?”
“Tell him you got into a fight after he left. It's not TOTALLY unbelievable.”
Sasha spent the next few minutes cleaning me up as best she could. Then made our way through the club, out the front door and right smack into Sheldon.
Damn it.
“What were you doing in there?” Sheldon asked sternly.
“Using the bathroom,” I said casually.
“What happened to your face?”
“Umm...I got in a fight?” I said smiling.
After pressing me for info about my puffy cheek, I did confess that Mandie accidentally kicked me in the face while stagediving. As Sheldon and I argued, I could feel the vultures circling around me. The girls who were just waiting for any kind of weakness so they could swarm in on the potential carcass of our relationship. I knew I needed to present a united front between Sheldon and I. Even though I had no intention of keeping the promise, I told him I would never go to another Glamour Punks show just to shut him up.
DAVE ZINK ( Blackboard Jungle): I was about 17, and I think I wasattheoriginalRedLightDistrictatSunsetandHudsonbefore it movedtoHollywoodBlvd.IwasonadatewithsomegirlthatIfancied whensomedudeandhisbrotherstartedinwithme.Itquickly turned intoabrawl,andthenextthingIknow,they’re kickingthecrapout of me. One guy even broke my nose. And guess who came to my rescue?Mandie.
I barely knew him but Mandie got these guys off me and even walkedmehome.Acoupleofdayslater,hemadecontactwith meto make sure I was okay. I’ve always had a fondness for him and respectedhimover the years fordoingthat.Idon’t knowthat Iever properly thanked him because god knows what those guys would’ve doneifMandiehadn’tjumped in.He’llalwayshaveaspecialplacein myheartfordoingthat.
Sheldon didn’t talk to me for a few days after The Glamour Punks show. We had never gone that long without talking before, and I was surprised at how pissed he was over the whole ordeal. But my 17th birthday was just around the corner and that helped melt the ice between us. The plan was to have dinner at Benihana on La Cienega, along with his singer Vince and Dagmar.
I have no idea where Sheldon and his band mates found Vince. He was Hungarian and barely spoke any English. As a matter of fact, the most English he knew was in the songs he sang for Dancer and even then he barely understood what he was singing.
As the four of us ate dinner, Sheldon brought up The Glamour Punks show and got on my case about going to other bands shows. He basically forbade me from ever going to The Strip again, which I found hysterical. The remnants of Ronan trying to rule our relationship with an iron fist were still very fresh in my mind, and after surviving that nightmare, I swore I would never let a guy control me again.
“I was going to The Strip before I met you ya know?” I said.
“It look's bad when you go to other bands shows,” Sheldon replied.
“It does not,” I said rolling my eyes.
“Yes it does. You look like a hussy.”
“What is hussy?” Vince asked in his thick Hungarian accent.
“Be quiet and eat the scallops,” I told Vince.
“I don’t look like a hussy,” I said directing my attention back to Sheldon. “It’s not like I’m standing by the stage, flirting with these guys and flashing my boobs. They’re just friends and I’ve known them a lot longer than I’ve known you.”
“You don’t understand that I have a reputation to uphold.”
I burst out laughing.
“What reputation? You act like we're Tommy Lee and Heather. No one gives a shit about what we do except for the girls that are trying to hump you,” I said.
“I also don't want you getting hurt anymore.”
“That’s a crock of shit. You could care less that I got kicked in the face. You still haven't asked if I was okay.”
“Look, you shouldn’t go down there because it’s not safe. I only go because I have to promote. I hate being down there.”
“Yeah, I bet,” I said raising my eyebrow.
I was sick of arguing with Sheldon, so in another attempt to shut him up, I lied and told him I would stop going to The Strip. Besides, there were more than enough people packing those sidewalks for me to go and not run into him anyway.
The following weekend, I made plans to go to The Strip and recruited Sasha to be my wingman. Her only job was to keep an eye out for any potential landmines aka Sheldon or friends of Sheldon that would rat me out.
Friday night went off without a hitch. It wasn’t until Saturday night when Sasha and I were doing a final lap up Sunset, that Moses himself parted the debaucherous seas and there was Sheldon, Vince, and Nima right in front of Gazzarri’s.
Damn it.
Sheldon glared at me as I walked up to him. But before he could start barking at me, help came in the most unexpected form, his personal stalker Misha. I had noticed her earlier in the night passing out flyers for a band called Liquor Sweet.
I continued to make my way towards Sheldon, but Misha reached the boys first and sparked up a conversation with Nima. Annoyed by Misha’s presence, Sheldon turned his back and started talking to Vince. Wanting to get Sheldon’s attention, Misha jokingly tried to pull on a stack of flyers he had rolled up and put under his arm.
“Get away from me you bucktoothed bitch!” Sheldon said venomously.
“Fuck you, you stupid asshole!” she said lunging for Sheldon.
Nima immediately grabbed her and pulled her off to the side as she continued screaming obscenities at Sheldon. Not to say I was happy that crackpot was trying to attack my boyfriend, but it certainly took the heat off me for the time being.
“I don't want any part of YOUR drama, I'm going home,” I said to Sheldon, totally disgusted as I walked off.
Once Sasha and I were out of facial view of Sheldon and his band mates, I cracked a smile and giggled with her all the way back to the car.
Needless to say, Sheldon eventually gave in as far as banning me from The Strip. But that didn’t stop him from giving me shit every time he saw me there, especially when I went to see other bands play.
Speaking of girls on The Strip, let me tell you a little bit about the various groups of ladies that hung out in the scene, which I mentioned briefly in an earlier chapter.
At the top of the food chain were the hot girls, and the world was their oyster. They got into shows for free, had their drinks paid for and pretty much anything else they wanted. But a vast majority of these girls were groupies that were passed from band to band like a joint at a keg party.
At the bottom of the food chain were the ugly girls, who were usually fans of the band. They would foot the bill for whatever particular band member they were crushing on, JUST so they could be around them. Mixed in with the ugly girls was also a stalker or two.
Then there were the group of girls I belonged to, which were caught somewhere in the middle. We certainly weren’t hot, but we weren’t hideous either. We had befriended a majority of the bands on The Strip without having to sleep with them and actually had their respect. We all got along for the most part, but in every group there’s always got to be one, that one girl that rubs you the wrong way and completely annoys the shit out of you. For me, that girl was a skinny, lanky little thing named Casey.
Casey was a year younger than me with stringy, red hair just down to her shoulders. She had a gap between her two front teeth and
a pointy witches nose. She knew all the same bands I did, including Dancer, and I knew damn well she had a crush on Sheldon too. At first, I found her mildly annoying. But after several instances of her pulling the giggly, flirty act with Sheldon and showing no regard for me as his girlfriend, well I was just about ready to choke the bitch.
Despite all the dirty looks I shot her, it was blatantly obvious she didn't care how much I hated her. She actually seemed to feed off it. I quickly realized that Casey was the bratty kid dragging the stick across the fence, and I was the dumb dog chasing it back and forth barking. Sure I could’ve pulled the caveman act and flat out told her to back off of Sheldon, but that’s never been my style. Besides, I wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of knowing she had completely gotten under my skin. I decided to take a more clever approach in dealing with her.
I was hanging out with Sheldon and his band mates one evening near Bank of America on The Strip, when I spotted Casey and her sister Terry near Gazzarri’s. They were talking to my friend, or should I say OUR friend Pepper, who was in a band called Strawberry. Casey was holding Peppers hand and laughing at the things he was saying, so annoying.
Terry and Casey hugged Pepper goodbye and made their way toward us. Casey was wearing platform combat boots, and I secretly hoped that as she crossed the "hill of death" she would fall and snap her neck.
The “hill of death” was a small residential street called Wetherly Drive that divided Gazzarri's and Bank of America. It was one the steepest hills on the small stretch of The Sunset Strip. I witnessed many girls try to maintain their sexy composure in spiked heels while attempting to cross that little street, and a majority of them never made it across without eating shit at least once. Luckily, I never fell victim to Wetherly Drive, no pun intended.
As Casey happily skipped over Wetherly Drive unscathed (unfortunately), I knew I was in for another session of her hanging all over Sheldon just to piss me off. She immediately gave Sheldon a big hug and enthusiastically asked when his next show was, stupid idiot.
Terry stood by not really talking to anyone, so I decided to spark up a conversation with her, which I had never done before. She was wearing a dress that I thought was really cute, so I asked her about it. Although she was surprised by my inquiry, she went on to tell me about where she got her dress and a lot of her clothes. Towards the end of our friendly exchange, I noticed Casey ease up her pawing on Sheldon.
“Well I have to meet a few people by The Whisky, so I’ll see you guys in a little bit,” I said. After giving Sheldon a big kiss, I smiled at Casey instead of shooting her my normal daggers and then I happily walked off. I kept up my cheery demeanor for the next several weeks and noticed Casey gradually start to warm up to me. She stopped slobbering all over Sheldon and even began saying hi to me when she saw me. On a few occasions, she even hugged me hello before saying hi to Sheldon, which totally shocked the hell out of both of us. I did start being genuinely nice to her after a while, but I still held a small bit of resentment from all the times she cozied up to him. Or maybe I should’ve directed that anger towards Sheldon because he never did anything to stop the flirting. God knows it was never his fault.
“I have to be nice to my fans,” he would always say. Being “nice” was totally understandable. But to use that as justification for the flirting, the kisses and letting girls hang all over him? Um no. I never bought into that horseshit for a minute. It was all just a test of patience on my part as to how much I would actually put up with.
Strangely enough, once things seemed to be kosher between Casey and myself, I noticed my relationship with Sheldon start on a rapid decline. He was really irritable, and we weren’t talking everyday as we normally did.
After a few weeks of Sheldon continuing to be elusive, my anxiety began to kick into overdrive. I was sitting in class one day and my mind was going in a million different directions, wondering what the hell could be wrong with him. Instead of waiting till I got home to call him, I decided to do so during my lunch break at school. It was there that I reluctantly ended up discussing my personal life on a public pay phone in front of every hungry kid running in and out of the school cafeteria.
Sheldon said he was having “problems” that he wasn’t ready to discuss with me yet and needed “space” to figure these things out. He also said he wouldn’t be able to call me as much anyway because he couldn’t afford his phone bill.
“So we’re breaking up then, that’s what you’re saying?” I said with a lump in my throat. “I didn’t say that. I care about you, but I just can’t have a girlfriend right now.”
“That means we’re breaking up,” I reiterated.
“Just hang tight, all I need is a little bit of space.”
I started to cry.
“It’s really immature to cry, and I hate when girls cry,” he said.
“Well it’s just me being human and we cry sometimes. If you need space, then call me when you’re ready to talk.”
“Okay Rambo.”
“What the fuck? You call me a baby for crying and Rambo for trying to be strong about it? You’re an asshole!” I yelled and immediately hung up on him.
In the weeks that followed, things were pretty choppy with Sheldon. We’d talk here and there, but not as much as we used to. He’d still invite me to shows, and I’d stupidly go. We’d hook up sporadically, and that made things even more confusing. It was all just a big mind fuck as to whether we were together or not, which according to him, we weren’t. We were on a little bit of a “break”.
Great. Just what I needed, ANOTHER fucking “break”.
One weekend, I was sick as a dog, so Sasha went to The Strip with Dagmar while I stayed home and hacked up a lung. The next morning, Sasha called me with some interesting news.
“Dude, when Dagmar and I were walking to her car behind The Whisky, we saw Sheldon and Casey scamming in the parking lot,” Sasha said bluntly.
“Scamming” back then was a slang word for making out. I was immediately sick to my stomach. I knew something had been going on between them. It made perfect sense as to why he’d always let her hang all over him.
Even though we technically weren’t together at the time and on a damn “break”, it still pissed me off. I confronted him about it and he did admit to making out with Casey that night, along with a few other nights during our separation. He said they first hooked up shortly after he met me but that he’d never slept with her. Yeah, right.
A few days later, Sheldon and I met up in person to hash everything out and he finally told me about the personal family problems he was struggling with. We had a really good talk and said we still loved each other, so we decided we would try to give our relationship another shot.
With the end of the school year fast approaching, there was still one more teenage milestone I did want to participate in. Senior prom.
Unfortunately, finances in the family were very tight because my dad was on disability leave due to a recent back injury. His pay was considerably less than what he earned while he was working, so I knew I couldn’t ask him for money. I had the cost of a prom dress, a yearbook, and a class ring coming up with no money to pay for any of it.
I mentioned my dire straits to a classmate named Hannah, who worked part time as a telemarketer for Culligan Water. She was able to work a little magic, and within a few days she got me a job making minimum wage with her at Culligan. For three days a week after school, I would cold call people and bother them during their dinnertime, asking if I could have a representative come over to set up a sample water filter on their faucet.
As with any sales job there was a quota, which I came nowhere close to making. Needless to say, about a month later, I was fired. The money I saved up from Culligan wasn’t enough to pay for everything I wanted, so I decided I would have to graduate high school without a class ring.
The financial strain put a damper on my prom because I wanted to buy a beautiful dress, with beautiful jewels and shoes to match, and be tak
en in a limo. Instead, I chose a neutral color for my dress so it would match jewelry my mom already had, I would borrow Lucy’s car to pick up Sheldon, and the tailor who made my dress felt so bad I was literally counting pennies to pay for everything, that he threw in a pair of shoes for half price.
Hannah needed a date for the prom and since she had gone with me to a few Dancer shows recently, she ended up asking their roadie Alan to be her date. Sasha wanted to go too, but the prom was for Rosemead High students only. Luckily, Hannah knew a fellow senior who wasn’t going, so we had them buy a ticket and give it to Sasha. When I asked her who her date was going to be, she said she was bringing Alex. I’ll be honest, I was a little jealous when I heard she was bringing him. It certainly sparked some residual feelings I had, but I was still very much focused on trying to make things work with Sheldon.
As I drove to pick up Sheldon on the night of my prom, I wondered what he might be wearing. He didn’t mention anything about buying or renting a tux. I figured he might be decked out in rocker clothes, which would be a little weird, but I didn’t really have a problem with it. I felt I was just a tiny bit cooler than the rest of my classmates because I was dating a musician, as opposed to a typical high school boy.
When I got to Sheldon’s, he opened the front door fully decked out in a tuxedo. He even took a shower and did his hair. I was totally shocked that he went to that trouble. He only got that gussied up when he had a show, sans the tux of course.
My prom was held at the Hyatt Regency in Long Beach. When we arrived, Hannah and Sasha were already at our table with Alex and Alan. I hate to admit it, but once I got a glance of Alex in his tux, I was a little jealous that he was Sasha’s date and not mine. I did love Sheldon, don’t get me wrong, but Alex was much more suited for an event like this. He was friendly, funny and loved to dance, whereas Sheldon literally bolted outside with Alan within moments of us walking into the ballroom.
I spent most of the night talking with Alex. We laughed about old times and caught up on all the recent happenings of everyone in the Alhambra crew. We danced with the girls and although I was having fun, I was slightly disappointed that Sheldon wasn’t being more engaging with my friends and the event in general.
Rock and Roll High School: Growing Up in Hollywood During the Decade of Decadence Page 13
