It was 10pm, late, dark, and I was on my way to a party Helen was having at her house in Beachwood Canyon. I was still unnerved by Helen's decapitating actions.

Stacey Sherman and Mike Shamhead were gone the next day and nothing seemed to have changed, except for the no name studio executive who stood by the craft service table all day talking on his cellular. I watched him and I wondered who he was and what he did. I mean, he was an executive so that must mean he did a lot. I wandered over and picked at the M&M bowl and listened.

His face was pink and plump, his hair brown, curly and boyish. With a closer look I noticed he couldn't have been older than thirty-- and here he was in charge of a mutinied ship. He was pissed and his face was becoming redder.

"Why? Just tell me why goddamn it!"

He glanced up at me and our eyes met. I saw a glimmer of sadness and then... "Just who the hell do you think you are? You know who you are? You want to know who you are? You're a little prick who thinks she knows how to screw me. Pack your goddamn bags and get the hell out."

I guessed it was his girlfriend. Maybe she screwed around and got caught, maybe she was bored, or maybe she realized women were much more interesting. Whatever it was, it had to be something dramatic because this guy was heading for a nervous breakdown.

Then his demeanor made a drastic change. His facial redness lessened and he was pink again. "Hey listen, will you leave the name and number of another housekeeper on the kitchen table ... hello ... hello?" He pushed END and slipped the phone in his gray jacket pocket. He looked back up at me, "Hey, you know any good housekeepers?"

It took me too long to know what to say. I know this because when I finally took a breath and was ready to say something, he was already off asking the rest of the cast and crew if they knew of anybody.

I pulled into her driveway and idled behind the line of BMW'S, Mercedes, Saabs, and Porches. I wondered if neurotic behavior was a requirement for success in this business. I was still incredibly excited by the thought of Helen, but I wondered what made her tick. Was she real? Or just struggling to live off the measly droppings that success brings you?

I pulled up to the valet, everyone staring disapprovingly at my Bug. But they couldn't make me feel inferior because my car needed a paint job. Therefore, I proudly embraced my car-- smiling at the valet and saying, "Careful now, don't scratch it." He was professional and unreactionary. The other guests that watched me were also unreactionary. Maybe I should have left, but the valet parker jumped in and drove off before I had a chance.

There I stood, being looked down upon by Helen's guests and her looming three story Spanish house. I took a deep breath, headed in, and hoped for someone to talk to. The people inside hadn't seen my car so maybe I had a chance.

Servers with trays passed appetizers and plastic glasses of champagne to the most beautiful women I'd ever seen. I stood in the foyer and somebody, whoever, put a glass of champagne in one hand and a small plate of caviar filled baby potatoes in the other. I started to wander. People glanced at me and passed by without greeting or indication.

I chugged the champagne and grabbed another from a passing tray.

"That stuff makes my head bubble." Helen leaned against the wall and smiled-- intentionally vague-- but obviously with a keen idea in her head. It thrilled me. She took my hand, "Let me show you around."

I continued with the obligatory, "gee, great house" and the "how long have you lived here?" but clearly the subtext stemmed from our cupped hands.

I kept my eyes open for a possible Helen girlfriend, but nobody fit the bill and Helen hung with me the entire night. She asked me standard questions about myself, but never did we speak of lesbianism, her lovers or mine. I didn't mind though because I felt we were getting to know each other for who we were as people. Pretty corny, huh?

At the night's end, she hugged me and when my hands squeezed the top of her

shoulders-- I knew she smiled.