About halfway into hanging out with Jake on Thursday, I realized that he had been set down in front of me for the cosmic purpose of auditioning for a role in my life. The part? White Guy With Brownish Hair From the UC Santa Cruz Film Program.
The part of White Guy With Brownish Hair From the UC Santa Cruz Film Program was first played by Gabriel Fleming, who, during certain periods of the year, is the only friend I spend time with socially. (That's not an exaggeration.) But Gabriel occasionally gets caught up in editing reality television and making movies, so it was good when Donovan Keith moved to Los Angeles last year so that he could play White Guy With Brownish Hair From the UC Santa Cruz Film Program during Gabriel's long absences.
Imagine my panic when both those bitches announced that they were traveling the world together for four months in order to shoot a feature film. How the hell was I going to find yet another White Guy With Brownish Hair From the UC Santa Cruz Film Program (whom I could occasionally sexually harass against his will)?!
Well, that's where Jake conveniently comes in (I kind of know him because of him and him). We had a good time at the glorious Americana and playing pinball, and in an unwitting attempt to seal the deal (or, rather, the role) he left me a voicemail message a few days ago proposing that I join him for the most fun Tuesday ever.
When I called him back, he said he could get me in free to an amusement park (I have to keep it vague for reasons that will be clear later) and asked if I wanted to go. Amusement?! Free?! Fuck yeah!
JAKE: Oh, one thing I didn't tell you. I don't know if this changes your decision.
PRINCE: What is it?
JAKE: How do you feel about hiding underneath a blanket?
JAKE: You have to hide underneath a blanket.
PRINCE: I don't know what that means.
JAKE: It's not a metaphor. You have to climb into the trunk of the car and hide underneath a blanket. How are you with small, enclosed spaces?
PRINCE: I suppose I'm okay.
JAKE: Yeah. My friend works at [the amusement park], and he can get us in. But we have to be in the trunk.
I shrugged. That's what I do whenever a White Guy With Brownish Hair From the UC Santa Cruz Film Program says pretty much anything to me. So we set a time for me to show up at their house, and I hung up.
That night I inadvertently saw a movie called Trade, an overwrought drama about human trafficking and people being sold into sex slavery, a film brewing with violence, abuse, rape, murder, suicide, and just about every depravity known to man.
Yesterday evening, I called Jake, demanding additional details.
JAKE (to his friend, "W."): Hey, W., Prince wants to know what's the worst that could happen.
JAKE (to Prince): Nothing.
JAKE: Nothing. We just have to be smuggled in the trunk one at a time. You can go first or second. If you go first, you'll be driven over the border... (chuckle) ...and dropped off, and then W. will come and get me.
PRINCE: Okay. I just have to be sure of something.
JAKE: What's that?
PRINCE: You're not going to kidnap me and sell me into slavery, are you? I'm not gonna end up in some basement in Poland, am I?
PRINCE: I mean, how does this look? Two white guys shoving me into the trunk of a car.
JAKE: Here—talk to W.
W.: We are not involved in human trafficking.... By the way, I saw you perform in Jukebox Stories!
PRINCE (flattered and sufficiently diverted): Really?! I'll see you tomorrow morning!
I'm about to head out the door. If I do not post a new blog entry by tomorrow morning, the full name and address and phone number of Jake is sitting on my desk. Please bust him, and please come rescue me in Poland.
[Addendum: Check out "In Case I Am Kidnapped and Sold, Part 2."]