A Date With Liza Minnelli On Crack!

“8pm at the sushi bar work for you?”
“Yeah, that’s good. I’ll wait for you in the foyer—near the coat check.”
I said, to my blind date as I spoke to her over the phone. She sounded a bit ‘Brooklynish’---very outspoken and had a great personality over the phone. We spoke for a couple of weeks before we even decided to meet up for dinner. She had similar family values as I did, she was Italian like me, and she knew how to laugh—which is important. The only drawback to this whole scenario (besides it being a blind date) was that she has never been with a woman. She didn’t ‘come out’; she was a rookie to this lesbian scene. Why not be her first lesbian date, right?

I pull up at 8pm to the valet parking attendant. He hands me a ticket, and I walk down the stairs into the restaurant’s foyer to wait for Annette. She probably didn’t know the roads that well, since she was coming from out of town, so I gave her a little time to get there. I didn’t mind.

8:15pm… Okay, fashionably late, but still not here. I was contemplating whether or not to go to the lounge for a cocktail to loosen up. At this point, I should have asked her to meet me at the bar, instead of waiting in the foyer like a big idiot. If she gets here, and I’m inside, she’ll never know. These were the days where cell phones were a luxury, so hardly anyone had one. I couldn’t call her, I couldn’t do anything other than wait.

8:30pm… Okay, they have just seated over twenty people, and I was not only irritated, but I was starving. Did she stand me up? Did she get lost? I couldn’t figure it out. I walked up to the Japanese owner, and asked him if he had seen a woman, with short dark hair, wearing mostly black that came in here by herself. She had described what she looked like, and what she would be wearing before our meeting.

“No. Nobody in here that fits that description…So soddy.” He says, in his abrupt loud Japanese accent.
“Thanks!” I said.

8:40pm… Time to get my car and get out of here. It’s obvious that this girl stood me up. I don’t know whether or not to be concerned, or to think—hey, that’s life! I never experienced getting stood up before, so this was a first.

I come back home, drop my keys on the counter, and pressed the message button on my answering machine.

“Debbie? Where are ya? I’m ova’ here in dis’place, but you’re nowhere to be found girl! I asked the gentleman here if he saw anyone who fit your description, but he said no. I’ll call back in a few minutes. Hope you didn’t stand me up!”

“Ugh..” I waited for the phone to ring again. Soon enough it did.

“Hello?”
“What da’hell happened to ya? You standing me up now? That’s fugged up!”
“No! I was there Annette! I was there for forty minutes waiting for you. I went inside to ask the owner, and he said he didn’t see anyone who fit your description.”

“Okay…well can you make it here? I’ll wait for you.” She asked.
“I’ll be there in ten minutes!”

Rushing over once again, I notice the valet parking attendant gives me a strange look.
“Don’t ask…” I said, laughing as he was too. I gave him my keys, and headed in the door to the foyer, where she said she would be.


“I can’t believe you’re not conscientious of who come walkin’ in heereee! She even asked you what I looked like—and you gave her nuttin’! I’m very disappointed in this place!”


Oh………………my……………..God. She is telling off the owner. Do I run out of there? No. She immediately turns around and sees me walk through the large doors to get inside.

Sh*t!

“Dare’ you are! Fuggin people think we all look like! Ain’t that ironic, huh?” Annette says, in her deeply rooted New Yorker accent. It was almost as if I were on a date with Marisa Tomei’s character, Mona Lisa—from “My Cousin Vinny”…I swear!
“Let’s just get a table and have a drink, huh?” I said, trying to speak low and guide her out of the owner’s way.

“I so soddy! I so soddy!” The owner says to me.
“I so soddy I did not know she was for you.” He goes on, and then sadly bows to me.
“Oh please--nothing to be sorry about. I apologize for the confusion, thank you for everything.” As I bow back at him, out of respect...and humiliation.
“You get a dinna’for free! I give you free dinna!” He yells out, as we make our way to our table.
“Thank you sir, but you don’t have to do that, really.” I said, embarrassed over the tons of people now turning their heads to see what freaks just passed them.

I wanted to literally hide and crawl under the table. I was so angry. How can I be angry at someone I don’t even know? I just put the menu over my face, and ordered a double martini.

“Wooo girl, you really had a stressful day, huh?”
“No…Stressful night actually.”
I replied.
“Night’s still young!” She says, as she did this sneaky little crouch over the table, with one eyebrow raised up.
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Okay. So the date wasn’t going too smoothly, because I wasn’t able to get past the fact that she literally harassed the owner and bamboozled her way into getting us a free dinner. This wasn’t my style at all. I was appalled, and I wanted to go home—now. Instead, I drank that double martini so fast, that it didn’t seem so bad after all. I was now ready to take a look at who I was dealing with.

HOLY FRICKEN DOUBLE MARTINI----IT’S LIZA MINELLI!!!!!!!!

I felt like “Arthur” in that movie he played with her in…the drunk, and the stupid broad from Brooklyn who didn’t know how to act in public. I was living the movie, “Arthur”!

Her hair was short, just like Liza’s---awe hell, just picture Liza Minelli---that’s it. She was wearing very tight clothing, black top, black tight pants, and very high leather boots up to her knees. A little ‘too flashy’ for me, but nevertheless, appropriate for her personality.

Two martinis down, and I was actually relating to her somewhat. We laughed at certain things, and I loosened up a tad. It was actually a fun time having dinner with her, after my anger subsided.

After dinner, we walked outside to wait for our cars.

“Oh, hope you don’t mind, I was dropped off.” She says to me, indicating that I was now her taxi. Great. Since I was going to be driving her thirty minutes back to her home, I figured we’d stop at a bar first and hang out. She agreed. I need more drinks.

Coincidentally, she picked out a bar that was attached to a…………………………………..hotel.

Yep. A hotel. Great. Get drunk, and get right to it! Life can’t get better than this, can it? We weren’t planning on getting a room, until I saw that I couldn’t walk very well. I thought the alcohol would burn off if we went dancing, so I wanted to wait on ordering a room.

No.

Annette did the honors of booking the room. Whatever.

We go inside the bar, and it wasn’t even a club where you can go dancing. It was more like a cheesy sport’s bar with pool tables from wall to wall. We hung out, had a few more cocktails, and then, inevitably two men approach us.

“I’d like ta’buy yerrrr’all a d-d-drink!” One guy in a Jet’s football jersey said to us. His friend tagged along, wearing this horizontal striped shirt that literally made me dizzy looking at it.
“Oh sure! Thanks guys!” Annette says, accepting the drinks and their presence. This was so not what I picture this night to be. I wanted out.

That whole entire evening was spent getting to know these men. Annette was talking to bachelor #1 and I was talking to bachelor #2. These boys were drinking since the game started, which was around 5ish, and it was now 10pm… These guys were ossified beyond belief. Hell, I was too.

3am…

“I’m really tired guys, so I’m heading off…” I even directed this statement to Annette who was engrossed in conversation with bachelor #1.
“No, wait for me, I’m going with you…” She says, and picks up her things, thanks the boys for a lovely night, and headed up with me. I had no idea where this night was going, but I was feeling literally sick over it. We barely said two words to one another the entire time.

As soon as I got into the room, I designated my bed, near the window, and took off my shoes. Annette wasn’t ready to go to bed just yet. She pulls me over…

“Come here!” She says, with her glassy little beady eyes.
“Wuddya’ scared of?” She asks.
“Nothing, I’m just really tired, Annette, and I just want to go to sleep."

She grabs my face and starts kissing me. It was the most awkward kiss I have ever had. Then she throws her entire body on me, and we fall on ‘my’ bed. She stunk of all the mixed drinks she was experimenting with, as well as the tequila shots. The woman had a bad case of dragon breath.

“NO…! Stop. I can’t. I’m sorry. We’re both drunk, and I really like you as a person, but it’s just not right.”
“You dink’ I’m not good enuff—aye? You dink’ just becuz you got money and you gotza’ nice job dat you dink you better dan’ me?”
She says, tilting back and forth pointing at me.
“No! No! No! That’s not it. I’m just a bit timid when it comes to meeting people at first, it has nothing to do with you.” I said, lying through my damn teeth just to save my life.
“Well I’ll have you know I’m connected. Yeh- I gotz’connections ju-know? You’ll be sorry you rejected me. I got cuzzins’ all ova’ da’ place dat would be here in a minute!” She kept on and on with the “mobster threats”… As if they would come down here because I rejected her.

They would simply say, “Forgetabowt it’!!!

~^~KnoCK~^~KnoCK~^~KnoCK~^~

“What the?” I said, looking at my watch. Maybe someone has the wrong room? I open the door, and it was the two guys we were speaking to from the bar.

“Hey ladies, come on now, you’re not going to end the night like that, are ya?”
“How did you get our room number? And wait—how did you know we were staying here?”
I asked.
“Annette told us your room number & said to come up.” He said…honestly. Oh—and I believed him.
“No guys, I’m so sorry, but you two gotta go, I’m tired, and this is not what it looks like.” I explained.

This guy barges the door open, and his friend behind him comes in with a bucket full of beer. I stood by the door, as they made their way into the room. I didn’t know whether or not to just run out of there like a lunatic, but my purse was on the far end of the bed with all my credit cards and personal info. I was not about to leave my crap there with these two drunk goons—make that three.

“Wha? You gonna stand dare’ all night lookin’ like a mutha-hen?” Annette said. It was then I knew she planned this whole scene at the bar.
“Listen, I have to go, enjoy your evening, I’m just not feeling well.” I said, walking over to my bag to retrieve it.

The one guy stops me dead in my tracks and starts hugging me---not letting me go. He tries kissing me, and I pull away. He kept grabbing me until I was locked in his embrace.

“Let go of me! Now!” I said.
“No! Come on, we had such a good conversation downstairs. Give me a kiss.”
“No!!! I am going home! Please let me go.”

The other two were sitting on the bed drinking beer and laughing. They didn’t care that I was really upset over this, or if this was a serious attack. It was almost like these three knew each other all along.

Tears started flowing, and I managed to get the hell out of his embrace. I grabbed my purse, and ran out of the room. As I was running down the corridor, I heard him screaming at me.

“No one eva rejects me! You gonna pay for dis!”

What are these people from the same pod? They’re afraid of rejection, so they’re going to get their cousin Vinny after you?

I got out safely, and called my good friend “Vinny” (shut up---really, his name is Vinny) and he drove me home safely.

The end...