Position: Contributing Writer (Features)Location: Lincoln Heights, Los Angeles, CA
Bio: This sums it up:
I'm working register at Amoeba Music when I do a double-take and see novelist Brett Easton Ellis approaching me from the line. I'm sweating and capable of folding a quarter with my asshole by the time I see his name imprinted on his American Express card and have to inform him we don't accept 'AmEx.' He mutters, "Fuck," under his breath while juggling a script and a slew of other cards emblazoned with that iconic 3-part name.
I ring him up and try to remain as cool and uncaring as possible. I say nothing and make no eye contact, but watch to see if he's willing to break the ice first. With each second that nothing happens I'm feeling more tense, and at some point hear myself say, "I'll hand this over to you at the other end." We walk side by side in our steps and when he passes the sensor I hand him the bag and suddenly erupt.
"You are the reason why I'm a writer living in Los Angeles!"
I want to cover my mouth and gasp but before I can I start rambling on about reading Less Than Zero at age 10, how I'm learning more about myself as a writer than ever before, and that a recent attempt to live happily on the east coast failed, hence why I'm back in LA and having the most surreal and serendipitous moment of my life.
I think we shook hands, I'm pretty sure he asked for my name, and I could of swore he said something about how he was glad I said something to him. We wished each other a good day and within a blink he was gone.
As I walk back to the register I'm tasting colors and hearing furniture, smiling like a goofball and ready to tell my co-workers to kill me now because my life had come full circle. Suddenly I stop dead in my tracks as disappointment crashes on me like cartoon anvil.
I realize Brett Easton Ellis just bought a CD by the Killers.
Likes: The Stooges "Funhouse" and The Velvet Underground & Nico album are good starting points.
Columns At CWG: The Features, Live and Direct
