*While inspired by events both observed in the media and actually experienced by the author, this is work of pure parody and is entirely fictional.

Another Friday after a LONG week. I know, I’m young single and I live in New York the GREATEST city in the world, I should be out on the scene. But I am tired. My absolute favorite things to do on Friday night is eat something yummy and be asleep by 10pm.

I was polishing off my brined fried chicken, when that familiar beep boop of my Skype went off. I already knew it would be Gwynnie X. I had been present at horrifying Sunday brunch she had at her palatial Upper East Side apt 5 days earlier.

One super weird thing about my relationship with Gwynnie X is how I almost never contact her. She contacts me. Its not that our relationship is completely one sided its just she has kids, a bizarre work schedule, and frequently travels to different continents. I’m always afraid if I call her, she’ll be on the set or I might call her at 4am because she’s in Dublin. Or worse. I’ll call her in the middle of Yoga.

I’m not even going to tell what happens if you call Gwynnie in the middle of Yoga. Why she answers her phone I’ll never understand. Maybe she does it just to scream at you. Inner peace my ass.

Gwynnie emails or texts me about twice a week. Sometimes she texts me to tell she doesn’t have time to text me. Or to explain why she’s hasn’t skyped much. We actually skype about once a week. I’d complain but I like her. And I get the sense she really needs friends who instead of constantly congratulating her on how brilliant she is, will look her squarely in the face and scream “Have you lost your fucking mind?”

But I hadn’t heard a word since Sunday. I texted her to say “Hey what’s up?” she replied “You home this evening? I’ll skype you.”

Okay brunch that week had been actually disaster. Not a “oh the waiters forgot the pickled green beans!” disaster. An actual ‘everyone was too polite to say anything’ disaster.

Thank the fucking Gods there was no press photographer or sponsors.

I logged on.

Gwynnie’s grinning blond face popped in front of me.

Gwynnie X: hey

Cam: Hey

I couldn’t believe how subdued she seemed.

Gwynnie X does 90% of the talking during these skypes so it was really getting awkward that she was just staring at her keyboard.

Cam: Well the food you served was AMAZING. And thank you so much for sending me home with so much of it.

Gwynnie X: well you know I had a ton of leftovers, people left before I set out the most the of the buffet.

I wanted to say something but I honestly couldn't think of anything.

Gwynnie X: I”m glad you stayed.

Let me back up.

Gwynnie texted me last Saturday to say her mom was taking her kids out for lunch and then to a Broadway show so she was having a lazy Sunday brunch.

“It will be very casual, no photographers no sponsors, just food and chat”

I asked her where her husband was “Oh he’s in England, he’ll be back on Monday”.

I was still reeling from overhearing her fight with him at her movie party in the Hamptons (it pained me to say it but he made some good points) and of course we both just pretended that it had never happened.

Okay so no Chris.

Cam “So what should I wear?”

Gwynnie X: Be comfortable! Jeans and a t shirt are fine.

That should have been my first clue that this would be awful.

Gwynnie asked me to come a little early. Help her set up. I did indeed wear jeans and a t shirt. A heavily laundered but still nice pair of broken in, slightly faded black jeans and a t shirt from a Tori Amos tour in 2002.

The doorman gave me the ‘up down’ and waved me onto the elevator.

Gwynnie opened the door wearing.a pair of MiH Sugarblue Marrakesh jeans, which clock in at a whopping $218 a pair and white cotton t shirt that cost $163.00. The less said about her shoes and washed satin jacket the better. I’m guessing the entire ensemble came it at about $1200. A everyday around the house casual outfit that cost more than most people earn in a month.

As I walked through through the sparkling apt toward the kitchen I could hear Gwynnie muttering in panicked tone to herself. I could see a handful of haggard looking cater waiters preparing trays. Gwynnie raced to the side of one chef with a pepper grinder hunched over a tray of deviled eggs. Once again Gwynnie was giving them cryptic instructions.

“okay now we want to SUGGEST pink peppercorns an implication NOT an introduction” she turned to me “Right Cam?”

Setting aside for a moment that I am moderately annoyed by being called “Cam” I prefer to be addressed by my full name, I guess I was feeling combative because while we were both wearing t shirts and jeans, She looked like she belonged on the cover of Vogue and I looked like something the cat threw up. So instead of my usual complacent agreement I said this:

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Gwynnie, what is the difference? an implication? an introduction? How much pepper is in an inquisition?”

Gwynnie stared at me with her jaw on the floor. Her eyes wide and full of fear.

Okay I was being mean. I had to pull back now before I sent her spiraling into a full blown nervous breakdown. “I mean are you saying you want the pink peppercorns very finely ground and very little, added well in advance so the flavors have time marry?”

Gwynnie X : No! I mean finely ground but added at the last minute. so the taste is less present but more implied.

Cam: but very little

Gwynnie X: Yes

Cam: and finely ground

Gwynnie X: Yes!

Jeez was it really SO HARD to say that?

The cook looked at me awash in gratitude. Unlike him I remembered my English to Gwynnie X dictionary.

The Chef handed me the fanciest devil egg I’d ever seen in my life. Fuck! that thing was STUPID good. And Goddamn that Gwynnie that tiny dusting of pink peppercorn was perfect.

Gwynnie had me sampling and translating for the better part of an hour. I can fault the woman for many many things but holy crap she can COOK. Scrambled eggs and caviar sounds disgusting, but when Gwynnie handed it to me on a decorative ceramic egg shell dish it was GOOD.

No hired models, no photographers maybe this day would be good after all.

I managed to forget I was wearing old clothes and cheap shoes.

Then the guests began to arrive.

Gwynnie would later tell me she only invited 20 people but there were at least 45 within the hour. Gwynnie asked me who some of them were. As far as I could tell a few “assistants” heard about the party and realized it was going to be ‘informal’ and Gwynnie would be too polite to ask the if they were invited, decided to just show up and take their chances.

Normally there is some 23 year old woman nervously checking her cell phone every two seconds or some flaming gay boy so drunk with power he’s weaving with a clipboard, making sure the only people at the party are on. the. list.

Of course. everyone else was dressed ‘casually’ in $2000 outfits.

And I shudder to hear myself say this, but I missed the pappers and the sponsors. At least that kept everyone on their best behavior. Everyone was just standing around looking bored, not talking, sighing wistfully while they shifted their weight from one foot to the other. At least with the cameras there they had to pretend they were having fun. I get it. By always being bored you can never be passe.

A certain celebrity stylist was there I’ll call her Raquel Y and one her clients was also there I’ll call her Shameron Marquez. Shameron was clutching my arm for most of day (which is fine Shameron is fun girl, smart and spirited) but real reason she had clamped into my arm? She went to a fundraiser the previous week and realizing someone had already arrived at the party was wearing the same designer she was, she ran home and grabbed another gown. A gown Raquel HAD NOT picked out for her. So Raquel was chasing her around trying to get her alone so should could play the martyr.

In case you’re not familiar with Raquel Y (and you shouldn’t be as I am using a clever pseudonym) she had a show on Bravo for several years. During the run. She went through two assistants. She seemed stunned that these people somehow continued breathing despite the fact they no longer worked for her.

Gwynnie X: Hey Cam can I see you in the kitchen?

Shameron clutched my arm “Don’t leave me!”

We crabbed walked sideways in the crowded kitchen.

Gwynnie X: Taste this potato salad. Is that a statement of chives or a suggestion?

I took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. Gwynnie looked frightened and anxious like a defendent finding out the jury verdict. My frightened little bird of a friend, I had to throw her a bone.

Cam: its a declaration

Gwynnie’s eyes opened very wide.

Shameron gave a sideways glance that screamed “what the fuck?” the chef looked at me like I had just signed his death warrant.

Gwynnie began jumping up and down. “Yes! Yes!”

She actually hugged the chef. Shameron grabbed a bite of the potato salad as Gwynnie waved us out of the kitchen.

Shameron and I crabbed back into the living room as Shammy whispered in my ear “She’s serving us potato salad? “ I whispered back “I never would have guessed she’d even heard of potato salad.”

And that’s when Shameron smacked right into Raquel Y and her insufferable husband oddly named husband Rune. Ugh.

Raquel Y: Well you look…(she looked me up and down) extremely comfortable.

Cameron: Well Thank you!

Raquel sneered at me, annoyed that I wasn’t insulted.

Raquel Y: wow Shameron that outfit is an interesting choice. You’ve been making a lot of interesting fashion choices this week.

Cameron: Well we could all use a shakeup now and then. Esp where fashion is concerned wouldn’t you agree Rune?

Rune: Uh….(glances nervously at Raquel)

Raquel Y: Go ahead Answer her.

Rune: uh….well I think…

We will never know what Rune was thinking. I heard a loud squeal and suddenly Shameron and I were being hugged by a tiny but very strong stick figure. This woman is a well know fashion designer but is always known for her famous last name as the daughter or a legendary musician. Sharp tongued, quick witted and humble despite her superstar family she also designs lovely clothes that are INSANELY overpriced.

But like Shameron she’s among the handful of Gwynnie’s best friends in the whole world that I can actually stand.

Bella Spmartney released us and I noticed she had a garment bag.

Raquel Y: What is that?

Bella: Its a dress from my spring collection, it won’t be for sale until September. This is a sample. Come on!

Bella turned and started walking down the hall. “I can’t wait to see it on you!”

The three of us wound up in Gwynnie’s bedroom, which is bigger than my entire apt and had a private bathroom bring the total in the apt to three.

Bella was leaning over the bed unzipping the garment bag. “I brought you a pair of shoes to match it”

Raquel Y: Oh i’m sure my shoes are fine

Bella stood up holding the gown. “Its not for you.”

Shameron light up “Oh thanks I know exactly when I’ll wear it! I have a fund raiser on Wednesday”

Bella’s left eyebrow went up. “its not for you Shameron. Its for Cameron Grey”

Raquel: Its too small it won’t fit her.

Bella’s other eyebrow went up. “really what size is it?”

Raquel stood there mouth agape. Me? I was already stripping down my reasonably priced underwear. Bella slid the dress over my head. I spun around and she zipped and I gasped.

O. M. G that dress was SO pretty. It could have hung in the Met. It had this amazing print abstract trees in black and white with these blue and pink color ribbons Yeah I’m not describing it well.

Here’s a link and yes you won’t be able to buy it until Sept.

It fit like a glove. It was probably meant to be a minidress but I’m so short it hit my knee. Oh how I loved it!!!

“oh its so beautiful Bella but I can’t afford it.”

Bella: You can afford free? its a gift! I remember how much you loved it so I had the sample made in your size.

Raquel Y: Such a waste you could have made it in a regular size and given it to a celebrity. Its like you think those things don’t matter.

Bella: its like you think I won’t punch you.

I slipped into the shoes. Oh so pretty.

Shameron: wow so gorgeous. Cam you look so pretty.

Cameron: Come on! I want to show this off!

I strutted into the party and turned a few heads. I heard some muttering and it sounded discontent. Two women who were clearly models as I could count their ribs through their satin camisole tops were giving me the up down.

Model1: you looked so comfortable before

Model2: yes extremely comfortable in your jeans and t shirt

Bella: are you saying she looks uncomfortable now?

The models saw Bella and looked panicked.

Raquel Y: her jeans and t shirt looked very comfortable like pajamas.

Bella: So what are you saying?

Me? I was pirouetting like a ballerina. “My dress is the prettiest dress of all the dresses! And its so dramatic.”

Just then Gwynnie came out the kitchen. The cater waiters circling the party stopped what they were doing and headed back to the kitchen.

“The buffet is ready! I even added some yummy potato salad from a Martha approved recipe, Dig in everyone. Its all gluten free!”

People started to move to the buffet and then Gwynnie spotted me.

“Oh ! I recognize that dress! Oh Bella you’re here!”

Bella and Gwynnie hugged. “Sorry I was so late” Bella trilled “My flight came in at 8pm last night, I am so jet lagged!”

“WHAT THE FUCK?”

I recognized Chris’s scream. The entire party froze. Gwynnie looked even more pale than usually and I didn’t think that would be possible until she died. Chris was standing in the archway of the front door, looking dirty, greasy and spent.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

Gwynnie planted a smile on her face. “Oh honey, we are having a lazy sunday brunch,”

“Did you really think I’d be up to a party after I’d been on a plane for 12 hours? Jesus fucking Christ!”

Gwynnie “You said you’d be back on the 20th”

Chris flung his bags onto the couch. “Oh fuck this! I’m taking a shower and I’m going to sleep. KEEP IT DOWN!”

He stomped down the hall into the bedroom I’d exited moments before.

Gwynnie “umm everyone he’s been traveling, you know, rock stars. eat up!” she slunk down the hall to the bedroom. Everyone was looking at each like “okay what?”

Then the screaming started. Everyone started putting down their drinks and plates and began creeping quietly toward the door. Shameron stayed glued to my side until Raquel and Rune had left. Then she bolted for the freight elevator. Bella was ignoring all this and making up a plate. I wanted to leave but my clothes were laying on the floor in the bedroom where Chris and Gwynnie were screaming at each other.

“Not hungry?” Bella asked reclining on the couch as she sipped champagne.

“I’ve been taste testing all day, I’m pretty full. I love my dress so much.”

“I’m so glad. This potato salad is really good and I hate potato salad.”

The cater waiters milled around us picking up glasses and wiping off surfaces.

Bella “Oh for fucks sakes”

Bella stormed down the hallway, I heard the door slam open.

“Sorry to interrupt you! I need to get Cameron’s clothes”

A few thumps, the sound of a shower, a door slamming. I heard a door open and Bella scream “Its the 19th you fucktard! You forgot to change your watch!

A pause “wow Chris your penis is small”

SLAM!

Bella came down hallway one arm around Gwynnie the other cradled by t shirt and jeans.

Gwynnie looked shocked “Where is everyone?”

Bella “They left. They were all really uncomfortable”

Gwynnie sighed. “Cam you wanna take some leftovers home? I have a ton of food now that will go straight into the garbage if you don’t take it.”

One thing about Gwynnie she will keep you fed. This despite the fact I’m not sure a solid has passed her lips since shortly before the last time she gave birth. I wanted to say no but as usual I was cash poor and that avalanche of food would feed me for a week.

Bella “Head out, we’ll send them over with a messanger”

I confess I strutted my way across the park rather than taking the subway. My dress was SO PRETTY. I even stopped at Barney’s. And slowly made my way through the store until (finally) an employee asked if he could help. “Do think these shoes go with this dress. I’m thinking a pair of black sandals might be better”.

Pretentious black clad pseudo European Metrosexual Clerk: The tan ballet slippers are great. Who is that dress by?

Cameron (sly smile): Bella Spmartney.

PBCPEMC: Where did buy it?

Cameron: it was a gift from the designer. It won't’ be available until Sept.

I did a little spin and walked out.

Two hours later 7 huge trays of foods were delivered to my door. I had to divide it up to fit in my fridge. I took one huge tray straight to a homeless shelter on 95th street. I wound up taking most of it to work, there was no way I could eat all of it.

Cameron: Really all my coworkers raved.

Gwynnie gave me a weak smile from my computer monitor.

Gwynnie X: and you? what did like?

Cameron: well that potato salad was good, as were the vegetables and the bread. But the fried chicken was AMAZING. I kept all of that. I ate it every night. Just finished it today.

Gwynnie X: I brined it. It really makes a huge difference.

Cameron: What did you and Bella do after I left?

Gwynnie X; We left and got mani pedis. I didn’t want to be there. I knew the kids wouldn’t be back until 5pm.

Cameron: Okay honey WHAT is going on with and you Chris. I knew you two fought but lately I’m starting to get worried he’s going to kill you!

Gwynnie X: oh Chris wouldn’t kill me. He’d never risk hurting his hands.

I know when she says stuff like she thinks she’s being reassuring but I found that comment terrifying.

Uncomfortable silence.

Cameron: Why do you think Bella gave me that dress?

Gwynnie X: she likes you.

Cameron: She does?

Gwynnie X: Remember when you said that jumpsuit looked like an unraveling tampon?

Cameron: well… it did.

Gwynnie X: yeah everyone else told her it was amazing. She hated it

Cameron: But she designed it, why would she design something she hated?

Gwynnie X: ask her to show you the sketch. It looked great on paper. She really appreciated that you were honest with her.

Gwynnie sighed. It was a deeply sad sigh. Full of loss. It made me want to hug her. And hate hugging her. I can feel all her bones. I’m always afraid I’ll snap her in two.

Gwynnie X : My agent is sending me ton of scripts. I’m going to be doing loops in LA but could we Skype one night next week? I’m going to read through them on the flight. I need to pick a new project.

Cameron: Okay how about next Friday.

Gywnnie X: i’ll feed the kids pasta, that always makes them sleepy.

We signed off.

Are there any books on having relationships with the rich and clueless?