Kate's Notes

Friday, February 09, 2007

Anna Nicole Smith story

I came across a truly remarkable story about Anna Nicole Smith yesterday. And seeing as I'm probably one of the first people to refer to anything that Anna Nicole Smith did as remarkable, besides have a solid rack, I should share. I found it so eerily topical and subtly profound that I got Goosebumps.

I had just woken up (three hours after the fact) to the news that Anna Nicole Smith had died (I know she died at about 10:00 California time: do not judge me because I sleep). So, I went down to get my morning/afternoon coffee and to write about her at a local coffee shop in downtown Los Angeles.

A little piece of information about L.A. The rumors usually are pretty true: everyone knows everyone, and if you don't know them, you know someone who does.

So, I have a hyper little friend: he's gay and he's adorable and he looks like a cross between Prince (the singer, not the English) and a lemur (I love lemurs!). He's big in the music entertainment industry, and has lived in Los Angeles forever. My hyper little friend and I start talking about Nicole; then he told me that she said one of the most amazing things to him when they met, and that it was so incredibly deep that he now guides his life the principle.

STORY: He was sitting behind her at a club one night, and apparently Anna fell in love with my little Purple Rain, Prince Lemur Friend and asked him to sit in her booth. She was slurring and FUBARed out of her mind; she kept asking him to a) kiss her b) if he had any cocaine or ecstasy. He didn't and he didn't. Apparently, she was really sweet though, and had the most delicate soft voice... BUT! she was also really wasted.

So, the television cameras were there for some sort of promo she was doing, and everybody was being loud and drunk and obnoxious. And it was dark, and the music was thumping, and people were spilling drinks, and at this point I picture confetti, but whatever. Looking cheap, Anna was in a blue trashy dress that probably cost more than my apartment, with a perilous slit all the way up one side, and super-super ratted extensions hooked onto an awful weave. She kept standing up beside my friend to talk to the group, and lifting her leg to put her foot on the seat; every time she did this, she would expose everything (everything-everything) down there. Everybody would start yelling at her to put her leg down, but she would just do it again (mind you right next to my little Lemur-friend's face).

Finally, after tongue kissing everyone at the table, including the camera man, 3 woman, and my gay friend (who was not pleased) something odd happened:

-- at this point I will narrate to give you an idea of how I thought it went down, and if it didn't, it should've --

So picture this: everyone is getting more wasted, and the music is getting louder, and the drinks are spilling more, and Anna lifts her leg again to put it up on the bench in front of her. The techno music thumps along, and then strobe lights beginning to flash, and everyone watching Anna Nicole to see what fucked up thing she'll do next with huge, manic smiles on their faces - detatched. The television camera crew are right at the table and focused right on Anna's face, trying to get the slurred words in the microphone; all her friends are laughing with her, pretending not to notice how wasted she is, and that she's making a scene, just going along with it to feast on her fame like rabid baby sharks.

She lifts her leg again, and everyone screams at her to cover it up, laughing like it's hilarious that she keeps forgetting, because she's so wasted, the television crew gives each other a thumbs up, as the camera guy keep rolling, and the music keeps playing louder, and confetti keeps pouring down, pink and silver, and Anna Nicole just laughs, realizing she did it again, and how could she forget something so silly, and then slumps down next to my friend, grabbing his face and pulling him to her to whisper something in his ear; picture just then the music fades, and drinks stop clinking, and the sharks mouths are moving, but nothing comes out, and everything is turned down, as confetti drops in slow motion onto her fake eyelashes, and she looks at him, and her friends and herself and says - at this moment of spetical - she whispers in her high pitch voice, "It's all just Entertainment."

Then she passes out at the table and her friends only notice because that means they have to pick up the tab.

Anna Nicole Smith knew her life was a perverse melodrama. This is one of the only ways I think the story could have ended.


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