Hollywood's Not America

There comes a time in your life where your dreams play out in front of you, like a private movie. One by one, everything you’ve ever fought for, and everything you’ve ever wanted or wished for, flash across your mind. All the things you were going to do, all the nights you let your dreams dangle on the tail end of a shooting star that was just a little too out of reach. There comes a time where you realize that everything you said you were going to do, becomes everything you couldn’t do.

I wanted to be famous.

Newsflash, so do the other six billion people in the world, and just because you live in the land of superstars, doesn’t mean you are one.

I just wish I had realized that sooner.

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“Stella, I need you off the bar and waiting tables pronto.” Lulu yelled from halfway down the bar. Her words traveled like bullets into my ears as I spun around and noticed a table of guys, who had just walked in, and these guys weren’t just here for a good time, they were the kind who came, saw, and conquered.

“I need another one over here Stella.” Ali knocked her hip to mine as she reached for another bottle of Jaeger, “Tall, dark and Arab on your left.” She whispered to me, nudging me towards the center of the bar where I saw a lanky looking kid, strangely familiar, leaning his elbows on the bar holding conversation with someone across the room. I followed his gaze to the table of guys who had just walked in.

“What can I get you, Aladdin?” I smirked as I ducked under bottles being thrown back and forth. He turned his head to meet my gaze and smiled, “The name’s Jack.”

“Alright then Jack, what can I get you?” I asked.

“Let’s see,” He smirked, “Flyzik’s a pussy so I guess we’ll have a round of Stella to start.”

“Seven Stellas.” I made a mental note, “Draft or bottle?”

“Bottle.” He dropped the money on the bar, “And get yourself a shot of Jack.”

“Clever,” I smirked, “You come up with that one yourself?”

“Depends, did it work?” He asked.

“Not quite,” I laughed, “But it was a good laugh, so thanks. I’ll bring ‘em over in a minute.”

The smile never left his face as he turned on his heel and strutted back to his friend. One of them with a beanie punched him in the arm as he sat down. Guys like that were my favorite, they always kept the night interesting.

“Hey baby-” I heard and twisted my head to meet the gaze of an older man with his two buddies sitting a couple of feet down the bar. They slid a shot glass my way and I picked it up smiling, toasting to them before downing it in one gulp.

Straight vodka. Looks like someone had to get away from the wife tonight. I hit the glass against the bar with a “hot damn” from the peanut gallery and chased the vodka with a bottle of Stella.

Men.

“Hey hot stuff, I need a round of Miller draft here for my buddies.” A younger man leaned against the bar, flexing his muscles absentmindedly.

“Lulu, three Miller drafts over here.” I called out and she nodded, coming up behind me with three glasses from under the bar.

I stepped over a broken bottle or two and untied my apron as I reached down into the belly of the bar, pulling out a round of Stella and popping the caps off with the edge of the bar top. Not the most eloquent way to do it, but hey, when you’ve got hundreds of guys breathing down your neck about another beer—a couple scratches on the bar really don’t amount to much.

“Hair.” I nodded to Ali as she pulled out my ponytail and ruffled my hair a little so it fell to my shoulders. “Go get ‘em tiger.” She smirked, smacking my butt as I pushed the swinging door and made my way out from behind the bar.

Now, see, a lot of heads turn when a girl walks out from behind a bar. You either own it or you don’t make it in this life. A guy whistles? You smile and keep on strutting your stuff like you’re hot shit. The only time you ever react is if someone makes bodily contact with you. Smack on the ass? Straight into the jukebox. It’s not a glamorous life, but it’s the closest thing you’re going to get to walking down a runway.

“Hot damn, Stella, lookin’ good as always.” One of the regulars, Jeremy, yelled as my high heels clicked past him. I just shot him a smile and kept on my way. Most nights were alright, until it started to get late and the already drunk came to get even more drunk, because then—it’s just lions on the prowl, and us girls are just like wounded gazelle on the Serengeti.

Just another night bartending on the strip.

“All right boys, here we go.” I smiled as I came up on the boys’ table, their conversation stopping the minute the beer made contact with the tabletop. “Seven Stellas.”

“Hot damn.” One of them laughed, giving me the once over. His muscles were almost exploding out of his t-shirt to the point where he might as well have not worn one at all.

Another one of them, an Italian looking guy slapped the table, “Agreed man.”

“Boys, boys, boys. Let’s be respectful.” The “leader” or, at least, the one I considered to be the leader said, “Thank you very much, uh—“ He looked at my chest, eyeing it up and down looking for the name tag that obviously wasn’t there.

“Stella.” I said half-immersed in conversation, I was keeping an eye on the boy who just walked in. I had never seen him before, which in Hollywood, wasn’t such a strange thing. But the way he walked, the look in his eye, he was looking for trouble.

“Well Stella, I’m Vinny.” The Italian winked at me, “And this is my wingman Zack.”

“Dude,” Muscles McGee shook his head, “You’re my wingman. Think you’ve got it backwards.”

I caught Jack’s smile out of the corner of my eye, “What are you smiling at Aladdin?”

“Aladdin?” The leader laughed, “This one’s a keeper, Jack.”

“Shut the fuck up Alex.” Jack threw a straw at him before turning his attention to me, “What I was going to say was, I believe I bought you a shot madam.”

“You would be correct—“ I smiled turning my head back towards the bar, “Lulu, can I get a shot of Jack over here.”

“Pour it your goddamn self.” She laughed; throwing the bottle over the bar followed a second later by a shot glass.
“Bitch.” I winked, grabbing the bottle and pouring myself a shot before downing it like a pro. “There you go Aladdin. A shot of Jack for…Jack.”

“Clever, dumb ass.” The bald one who had, to this moment, been absent from conversation over at the jukebox smacked Jack upside the head. “Hey, I’m Rian.”

“Stella.” I nodded.

“I don’t know what’s more impressive though, the way you unhinged your jaw like a snake to take that shot or the fact you could catch the bottle that well after all the shots you’ve probably downed tonight.”

“You learn how to handle your liquor when you’re a—“

“Girl?” Vinny finished.

“I was gonna say bartender, but both of them are adequate answers.” I laughed, making slight eye contact with Alex as he spoke, “Adequate. That’s a good word.”

“SAT word actually.” I grabbed the bottle of Jack and placed it on one of the waitress’ trays as she walked by to bring back to the bar. “The word that got me a 2000, actually.”

“You got a 2000 on your SATs?” Jack laughed, “I didn’t even take mine.”

“Well clearly it doesn’t mean much, I mean, she is working in a bar.” One of the smaller and quieter guys said from behind Rian.

“Whoa, dick move Evan. Seriously.” Alex smacked his arm, “I’m sure there’s a perfectly good reason why she’s bartending in this sleazy town. Right Stells?”

“Well aren’t you adorable, already giving her nicknames.” Jack cooed, “Better hold onto this one Alex.”

“Shut the fuck up man.” Alex shoved him from across the table, “Excuse my friend, he’s Arab.”

Jack grabbed the beanie right off Alex’s head, “I’m Lebanese you fuck!”

All the guys started laughing but my focus was still on the guy who had walked into the bar suspiciously. He was just standing there by the jukebox; there was something off about the way he looked at the room. I looked at the television over the bar and it was only a little past twelve. Not early enough for most second rounders, but maybe we had a stray. You could never generalize people in Hollywood; they always had ways of surprising you.

He meandered his way towards the bar, not complete sober—I could tell by the way he babied his hands onto the bar top, as if he was making sure they would make contact. This guy was more than just out for a fun night at the clubs, he was out to get hammered and take people down with him in his drunken stupor. He tried to order from Lulu but she quickly shot me a glance and then refused the man. He raised his voice, although the words weren’t audible. They still stopped the bar dead. The other patrons weren’t fazed by it yet though, and I hoped to keep it that way.

In the city of film, a scene was the last thing we needed.

“All right guys, enjoy your night. If you need anything, just give me a call.” I smiled, patting the table before turning towards the bar where Lulu was desperately trying to get this man to leave. He was barely legal; you could tell by the way he held himself. High and mighty like the world was his for the taking.

“I said, I want a fucking shot bitch.” He growled, “I WANT A FUCKING SHOT.”

“Excuse me.” I said, tapping the man on the shoulder. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

He turned his head slowly towards me, “And who the fuck are you bitch? Get the fuck out of my face unless you plan on taking off that shirt of yours.” He grabbed at my shit, tugging it down forcefully.

I shoved him back at the bar, “Listen, if you don’t get the hell out right now, we’re going to have problems.”

“The only problem here is that you’re not naked.” He grinned, lunging at me again but I punch him in the face so fast he didn’t even have a chance to grab for me before he hit the bar again.

“What the fuck bitch?” I heard from behind me, a couple of guys, in the same state as the asshole who just tried to tear my clothes off, walked in after their friend.

“You’re going to have to leave.” Lulu tried to yell to them as they barreled past the patrons who were, at this point, watching the fight play out. I caught Alex and his crew getting out of their chairs slowly out of the corner of my eye.

“She’s hot, man.” One of the thugs smirked as he looked at me, his eyes glazed over. “C’mon over here pretty lady.” He grabbed my wrists and pulled me towards him, but when I kicked him in the shin he threw me back into the bar. “Fucking bitch!”

“Hey asshole, why don’t you fucking pick on someone your own size?” Alex came bellowing over like a freight train, but his six-foot figure was nothing compared to this ogre.

“Hey guys its Bustin Jeiber.” He slurred, grabbing Alex’s beanie and tossing off his head, “Sing for us Bustin.”

“That’s fucking it.” Alex growled, lunging for the guy and soon enough his crew was throwing punches left and right.

It had turned into a full out bar fight. Bottles breaking, drunks on the floor, an even drunker person on the tables jeering whoever wasn’t taking punches. I felt Lulu duck behind me as I punched my initial attacker in the stomach and threw him over the bar. Lulu had resulted to throwing her heels at people, who not only gave her a mere two shots; they were wasted on her noodle of an arm.

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY BAR.” I heard Ray scream as he came charging down the stairs from the backroom. He stood at a powerful 6’ 3” and the only thing that was more distracting than his rippling pectorals was his baldhead. He started grabbing people by their shirts and throwing them apart, and when no one listened, he grabbed the bottle of 100 proof Smirnoff and smashed it clear over the top of the counter—catching everyone’s attention.

“I SAID ALL OF YOU GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY BAR NOW BEFORE I CALL THE FUCKING POLICE.” He screamed.

There were a couple drunken protests, but Ray wasn’t having it. He pulled Alex off of the ogre—his face bloody and cut—and tossed him back into Jack. “DID I FUCKNIG STUTTER? GET THE HELL OUT. ALL OF YOU, NOW.”

And just like that, they all started to file out. People being shoved left and right as they made their way out into the street. Alex and Jack disappeared into the mob of people and soon enough the bar was empty without a single trace of them or anyone else. Ray turned to us and sighed, “You girls okay?”

“Yeah, I knocked a few bastards out with these babies.” Lulu beamed as she picked up her heels which were strewn about the bar stools.

“Well.” He sighed, running his hand over his head with a yawn, “You girls can take off if you’d like. I can clean this up in the morning—“

“No Ray, it’s fine. I’ll stay.” I said, “I’ve got nothing better to do with my night anyway. You get home to Sylvia. I’m sure she needs some help with the baby.”

“Are you sure Stell?” He raised an eyebrow; “I can get someone to stay here with you if that’s the case—“

“No, it’s totally fine.” I smiled, tying my apron around my waist again; “It won’t take me too long.”

He sighed, “Okay then. Girls, let’s get out of here. Goodnight Stell. Don’t forget to lock up.”

“I won’t.” I grabbed a rag from underneath the bar, “Night Lulu, night Ali.”

“Night Stella!” They called back as they walked out of the bar, leaving me alone in that dive. It looked worse than it was. Nothing was broken besides bottles. The chairs were tossed about carelessly, but it wouldn’t take too long, and even if it did—it’s not like I had anything to go back home to. I could afford to waste another couple hours at this bar.

I grabbed the broom from behind the bar and started pushing the broken glass out onto the main floor and as I came upon a broken bottle of Jaeger, lying across some of the broken pieces was an all too familiar grey beanie. I wiped off the bar top and laid the beanie on it with a smile, I’m sure he’d come back for it, eventually.