Saturday Continued – Samedi Continué
MY DATE WITH MELISSA
Since I don’t have a mobile phone (yet) I was to call her at 9:30 to find out where she was. Of course she was blocks away on the Croisette at the Hong Kong party. I had to borrow a phone from someone else coming in to reach her. It was 10pm, by the time she arrived, but that was ok. We went up the red carpet, and much to my surprise no one thought we were celebrities; the paparazzi scrutinized us, but didn’t use up any film. Melissa hated the film, but I kind of liked it. It was clear how it got in, it was very artsy and disjointed, but funny and at times, shocking.
On further reflection, days later, I can now say that I liked it a lot.
After the show, we were photographed by one of the guys that sell the pictures to the tourists. It’s sort of like the picture that they take as you enter Sea World that you can see at the end of the day and buy in various formats. Only to get it, I have to call the photographer and meet him at the Noga this the following afternoon to look at proofs. I can’t imagine what he’ll charge, but I have found that here things cost less that I expect.
The plan was to go to the party for the film we had just seen, “24 Hour Party People”. Melissa was supposedly on a list as was her boyfriend, who is also named Mark and would be at the much sexier MTV/007 party. It seemed like a no-brainer, but there was such a crush at the door that we were nearly trampled. They weren’t letting anyone in, and people were just clawing their way through the crowd. The two of us came to the conclusion “Fuck this!” and went to have some late dinner instead – neither of had eaten anything substantial all day. We fought our way back upstream and then up toward Rue D’Antibes, but every place we found had closed their kitchens. We thought we’d have better luck on the Croisette, but the restaurants there had just stopped serving later. Sad to say, the only place in Cannes to get any food at 1am is… McDonalds.
But it was still great. The hamburger was square, and on this cool French styole roll, and even the cheese had an indefinable French quality. And, of course, they had beer. After satisfying that need, and not a minute too soon, we hoofed it back up the Croisette to see what was happening at the Noga on the Slamdunk Terrace. When we finally got up there, it turns out it was closed. And I mean really closed. The lights were almost all out, and there was just one security guard who we talked into letting us out there to walk around for a minute and look at the view. So we hung out up there for about 3 hours, first at the edge, looking at the view and the people on the street below and the boats in the harbor, then inside, in the lounge by the bar. After an hour or so, we were joined by Lena, the German actress, who was also and old friend from the day before. (Maybe even the day before that.) I had forgotten to bring tattoos, but luckily Lena still had 2 that I had given her. With napkins and Evian from the bar, we were in business.
Eventually, Melissa’s boyfriend called, Lena and I made wild party noises in the background, clinking classes, laughing, singing. I think we made the desired impression. Finally, we took out “Christmas Card Picture” with the plastic Lycos dog, and left. We saw JP in front of the hotel waiting for a cab. He had been to the “24 Hour Party People” party and said it was terrible – all fights and €16 cocktails. Turns out they’re REALLY not supposed to let people onto the Terrace when it’s closed, so it was a rare treat. PLEASE DON’T TRY THIS YOURSELF.
Melissa and I caught a cab on the Croisette and I dropped her at her hotel. The driver knew how to get to my hotel because he was the same one who picked me up from the bus and took me there on the day I arrived. Quel Coinidence.
