Juneau and Xena’s Excellent Adventure – Part II
Waiting for Rock Godot
22 December 2009
Xena tells the story of “Juneau and Xena Dine with Adam – Almost”
Mostly based on a true story
Finally Juneau and Xena think they might have a date for dinner, at a posh restaurant – with Adam – no Ray, no assistants, no boyfriends, no one but the three of them at the table. It’s the night of the NYC Jingle Ball which Adam is hosting and Juneau and Xena just met that morning for the first time! What an excellent conclusion to their day.
We await Adam’s arrival at a posh steak house next to Madison Square Garden, seated in a cozy booth, next to a window so we can watch the street for his arrival and we hope sans entourage, as this is to be a special night: Juneau and I are presenting Adam with a copy of our book, signed by us and dedicated to him. Juneau’s valiant attempts at charming guards, ticket sellers and list keepers almost worked. J. is as eloquent and elegant in person as her writing is here, with a voice to match.
We are frozen cold from our outdoor urban adventure, so we look at the wine list and settle on an Australian Shiraz only to have the sommelier return with apologies and we switch to a Merlot. After a long wait, she returns with two wine glasses and pours each of us a “taste”, mmm, perfect – fills mine but Juneau stops her – “this is enough for me”.
“Come on J., we’re not driving, it’s cold outside, our feet hurt and it’s a special occasion!”
“Look Xena, I don’t want a repeat of that story you made up about Paris, when we ended up dancing on the bar, falling off the bar and creating a riot with your ridiculous schemes. Didn’t someone call the gendarmes? I’ll just have this sip, thank you.”
She has a point there, but in that story, guys were sending over drinks by the tray and we sipped from each glass, not wanting to offend any of them, until we found out we were all only there for Adam, who came in and left with a little bevy of blondes or was it a bevy of little blondes? Didn’t even stop to say hi! But that was before the book.
A glass of wine for me and about an ounce for Juneau. There is a waitress just completing a transaction with the two men next to us. They are talking sports as usual – Tiger’s newly discovered indoor fitness regime – a trainer in every city. What is it with blondes?
A waiter has arrived at our table and stands straight before me, smiling “that’s a lovely red leather jacket, you look very elegant tonight”, he’s young but with a little old world manner and distinctive Slavic accent, in a moment we are sharing a joke in Bulgarian and he gave us his name. Georgi (hard ‘g’s) spots the book, Juneau asks if he has heard of Adam Lambert, his eyes widen, hand over heart, deep breath and a big step in retreat “I’m not gay! But yes, I know who he is and he’s very talented.” – how very politic of him.
Georgi must think we are well-connected, name-dropping, glamorous and glittery so he brings bread, then butter, then refills water glasses, each time revealing a bit more about himself, how he arrived in America, is really an actor, acting as a waiter, is thirty-one, loves ‘older’ women and in Bulgarian, I think I heard the word for ménage à trois! But my Bulgarian is a little rusty and I really only know the words they use in church.
Charming and suggestive Georgi kept our minds off our travails and potential disappointment as he asked for our blog information, our emails, phone numbers! What about husbands? Are they open-minded? He compliments Juneau on her warm and friendly brown eyes and exotic features of high cheekbones and perfectly proportioned nose. She removes her sweater, leaving her in that sheer lacy number! Georgi barely left our table now. She’s so petite that I feel like an amazon next to her and I’m not that big! We gave him a postcard and he asked for our autographs! This boy knows how to work it.
After three unrequited attempts to meet Adam, I was sure this one was going to work, after all we were on a VIP List for Z100 radio, o.k. so fiftieth on the “waiting list”, still! I have never been closer to meeting him than sitting here tonight, not in a crowd but indoors and with only Juneau to share him. We read to each other from the book, some of our funniest and suggestive stories which combined with the wine, heated us up and blushed our cheeks.
This was it, my last hope tonight. For the past hour, Juneau had been twit…twet…twa….tweeting? Jim Cantiello from MTV and Jim promised to get Adam over to the restaurant to see us. What a great guy, always makes his guests look so smart. The latest message said to go ahead and order champagne and dinner, not to wait, but Adam is still coming.
J. and I talk excitedly about what we’ll ask Adam when he sits down with us in a booth, on a banquette, oh oh, what were we thinking?? Lots of things happen on banquettes in Xena’s stories. Tired feet – shoes removed, then drinks spilled – tops removed, wardrobe malfunctions on the dance floor – repairs on a banquette. On second thought, the banquette is perfect! Georgi takes a commemorative photo of the authors, Juneau and I alone. Leaning over to replace the camera, he pops a note into my handbag, I later discover it’s his name, email and phone number. Where did I put that?
But I am so nervous! I forget to eat and plate after plate of barely touched food is removed from my place, while the champagne and wine glasses are constantly re-filled. J. had to taste the champagne too, now we’re really courting disaster……
I raised a fork to my mouth, then spotted security attaché Ray coming down the street toward the restaurant! Adam would be right behind him!! A sharp tine pierced my lip, I scream with pain, blood stains on the white napkins, tear away to the door – tablecloth dragging behind, in an explosion of china, glass and cutlery with a spray of bubbly and wine. As I reach the door, a chair tumbles over, waiter passing by, trips on it – tray flies up, raining Crème brulée, garnished with a candied violet- on the surrounding patrons.
“Flight of the Bumble Bee” is wafting through the sound system or just my head.
As I race through the restaurant, I mistake a mirror for another dining room and – BAM! I pass out cold on the floor, legs akimbo, zipper split and on my back. Leather bustier no longer “boosted” but busted, as crystal buttons set off like little heat-seeking bullets, piercing unsuspecting good Samaritans as they stop to help – good thing I’m unconscious.
By now, Juneau’s taken off to catch Ray, Cantiello and Adam, but in her black suede with gold glitter on the vamp, four-inch heeled Manolos, skids on the floor left slimy with Crème brulée – to avoid the fall, she grabs a man sitting in the chair next to her – he pulls back and splat! She’s lying across his lap. Her designer shiny pants have split up the back, revealing the matching thong with bits of glitter. Her beautiful, luxurious long dark hair flipped over her head and hides her embarrassed face. Now I am in major trouble with her – again.
Turns out Perez Hilton was behind our booth and has captured this all on camera, pixels now tweeted through the universe… At that moment, Ray opens the door, Adam glimpses the chaos, shakes his head, remarks “What?? Not those two is it? Not tonight Ray! I have a headache.” and keeps on walking, to the curb and the waiting limo. Thwarted again!!
Okay, I really don’t remember what happened after I fell, but Georgi filled me in with the details.
What is it with you and split pants? Do you have a fixation on thongs, per chance? Ah, possibly that’s it. I recall the lavish expense and effort expended on embellishing a leather thong to entice Adam when he came to Hamilton. However, the part about the crystal buttons spraying around the steakhouse like glittery shrapnel is all true. We broke quite a lot of Baccarat crystal that night.
I did keep my wits about me, however, and I am certain that it wasn’t the sorry spectacle of us that caused Adam to retreat that night. If he had seen us in our distress, I’m sure he would have insisted on helping to clean us up. He would have given us his beautiful black, double-breasted winter coat to cover our exposed derrieres (after carefully inspecting to make sure there was no embedded glass and that the thongs were intact) and kissed the tears of mortification from our cheeks.
However, Adam was never given the opportunity to demonstrate his chivalry because – I’m certain of this – Georgi blocked his entrance at the door, telling him the restaurant was closed, and that, besides, he’s not gay. I know we are thinking of casting Georgi in the James Bond movie. He would be perfect for the part we have in mind, but we will have to keep a very close eye on him! I’m not sure how reliable he is.
Of course that’s a good theory and probably true. Georgi asked too many questions and poured too many drinks. Had me fooled – you’re right – he’s perfect for our James Bond movie! I think we know a couple of Glambertinas who could keep him in line.
We have to get back to work on that James Bond story outline. Now where’s that note Georgi dropped in my handbag?
When I saw Adam on Leno – loquacious, erudite, quick and warm in the interview – had a plucking great time! Sexy in a casual, earnest and sadly emotional rendition of Whataya Want from Me, begging for us to put our arms around him, reassure him and promise to stay and work it out.
What a difference from the SYTYCD Saville Row Adam. Tightly wound with dramatic, confident flourishes, demanding an answer. He’s perfect, yin/yang all in one pretty package.