But of all of my traits, negative or positive, nothing has ever been more polarizing than fame. I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before, but fame is super weird. It comes with a ton of perks like free appetizers and desserts, but because everyone thinks this is so fun and glamorous, you’re not allowed to complain. But seriously, sometimes the only thing keeping me from eating a chocolate cake is the fact that it’s not literally sitting in front of me. When I’m at a restaurant and decline to look at the dessert menu but then the manager sends over a huge slice of chocolate cake, it’s like FUCK! Whose side are you on, manager dude? I came here for the salads! Stop ruining my life! Plus, it would be rude if I sent the cake back or didn’t eat it, and my momma did not sing in the subway and raise me right to have me send a free piece of cake back! But see? I look like an asshole for complaining about free chocolate cake! There’s no winning here. Fame is a double-edged sword, and there are so many kinds of chocolate cake to devour or avoid.
Much like chocolate cake, people started to show up in front of me just because of what I do for a living. That’s usually fine. I’m in the business of entertainment, I meet other entertainers while I’m at work, and we often click because there’s a common thread of understanding between us. That’s cool. I have plenty of friends I wouldn’t have met if I wasn’t an actress, and I’m grateful to have them all. What sucks are the droves of attractive dudes who just kind of show up in one way or another in front of me and flirt with me and spend time with me only to hand me a script or ask me to post a picture of them on my social-media accounts in order to boost their followers. Can I complain about that? Please?
When I was boy crazy as a teenager, I guess I thought, When we’re adults, it won’t be like this. We’ll be too busy working and, plus, we’ll be married by then! (Yes, in my inner thoughts, I refer to myself as “we” and I, excuse me, we don’t think that’s weird.) Problem is, I’m busy and not married yet but, shit, I still have time to check out a package or two. Maybe age and business have nothing to do with my boy craziness. Maybe it’s just another birth defect like my sarcasm and sassiness. Either way, if a cute dude starts flirting with me, I’m suspicious but also intrigued. This problem has worsened since I’ve become an actor, and as long as I have eyes and lady parts, it’ll probably be a problem forever. I’ve told you how soon I put dudes into the friend zone, or rather I put myself in the friend zone and eliminate myself from the possibility of anything more. I’m working on it! In the meantime, the guys I do pay attention to are the ones overtly flirting with me and asking me out in a romantic way. Even I find those signs hard to ignore.
So I’ll let them take me to dinner or drinks or whatever, and I get to play my least favorite game ever: the “Is This a Date?” game! Fun for no one! Here’s how it goes. Flirty dude will text me some flirty/friendly shit a few times, and then say, “We should link up.” Now the word link is some tricky Clinton administration number-one shit. It’s language that makes it hard to tell what’s actually happening. You can link up with your mom to celebrate her birthday, but you can also link up with the dweeb you cheat off of in science class to let him cop a feel under the bleachers. What exactly does link up even mean? Nobody knows! And you can’t know until after the linkup! I once asked my straight friend who was helping me to text a dude I liked if I could change the language from “linkup” to something more clear like “hang out,” and he looked at me like I was a murderer. When I asked if I could just be honest and say, “Come over and eat me out,” he refused to help me anymore.
So then flirty dude is all like, “Meet me at this place for dinner.” Dinner? Does he mean dinner or does he mean dinner? See?! So much confusing wordplay! Also, he said, “Meet me.” If this was a date, he would’ve picked me up, right? This is where the real nonfun begins because you have to start adding and subtracting points. “Meet me” will cost this date five points. If he says, “What’s your address, I’ll pick you up,” you can give the date ten points until you remember that your gay best friend and your straight platonic male friend also pick you up, so you dive deep into your own psyche and deduct ten points for being crazy before you even get in the car.
Once you’re officially at the linkup (once you’ve lunked?), you can start to assess the situation at hand. Did he bring you anything? Flowers or something? A Snickers bar or a key chain from some other city he was just visiting? I ask because this has happened to me. A guy who truly did not want to bone me planned a linkup with me and brought me flowers and a cross from Canada, and it was confusing as fuck! You want to think, Gifts! This is definitely a date! One hundred points! But I assure you, flirty dude is definitely up to something sinister. Flowers? The fuck?! Deduct five hundred points.