On the limits of older men seeing your potential.

A couple of years after the #metoo dust has settled, a memory has resurfaced that compels me to revisit one of my most unforgettable Hollywood afternoons. Was it a hilarious and harmless hang? Or a creepy inappropriate rendezvous? Or somehow both?

As I’ve recounted this narrative over the years, most people have gone on the ride, laughing at the absurdity of it, their biggest takeaway being “What a great story!” But recently when I’ve spilled this tea to younger female friends they nod along politely, ask some follow-up questions but definitely don’t laugh. The situation gives them the ick which makes me feel insecure and even defensive. “I agreed to go out with him! It was in full daylight! I was 26, not 16!” But like that 711 sushi I once drunkenly tried, I can justify the adventure all day long but deep down I knew something was off…

So gather round my friends, and let me tell you a tale of the time this famous (married) comedian asked me out…and I said yes.

So in 2012, I was truly living my best life. I was interning at an amazing production company which included great pay, chef-prepared lunches, and most of all an incredible community. All production companies claim to be ‘one big family’ but this place walked the walk. I was also living in an Airstream trailer in some guy’s backyard in Echo Park. An ironic living situation? Could I be more 26? The trailer and the internship weren’t perfect but they were mine.

Part of my job as an intern was making sure guests were hydrated as soon as they walked in. This could be anyone from Scorsese to Tom Crusie. But it was mostly VFX nerds. One day this famous comedian/actor, who was peaking at the time, waltzed into the office kitchen and I couldn’t help but follow him. He was a big guy with an even bigger personality and I made it my personal mission to try and get him to giggle. It didn’t take long. He had a very warm and generous laugh that felt like a hug. Mission Accomplished!

By this point in my intern career, I was very good at playing the game of treating him like a normal dude while also referencing the mega-hit TV show he was on as if to say, “I’m not some creepy fan but you are basically royalty to me.”

After a few moments of shooting the shit, he uttered the one well-meaning sentence I’ve been hearing my entire life and while I know people mean it as a compliment it feels more like a taser, jolting me out of the moment, “You have such great energy.” Immediately the panic set in, like thank you but also what is this invisible magic potion that is keeping you here and how the hell do I keep it going so you’ll never get bored?!

Luckily, I didn’t have to figure it out because he got called into his meeting. Phew. I made it through that interaction with my dignity intact and without my period leaking through my skinny jeans. But as he was walking away he swiftly handed me his card “Let’s hang out sometime…”

I was in shock. I was in heaven. I was confused. What exactly did a hang mean? Was this a work meeting? A friendly kickback between pals? Or more of a sex thing? Not to sound naive but he wasn’t giving off any sexual vibes when we met. It was more like an older brother vibe. But is that just how powerful men act before they lock you in a hotel room? I knew he was married so I justified that his intentions were pure. He loved my energy after all. To be honest, he was starring in one of the greatest comedies of all time and I was an intern: I jumped at the chance to get together one-on-one.

My memory is a little foggy (not to brag but I used to smoke weed) So I’m not sure exactly how the hang was scheduled but I do remember that very weekend he joined me at my favorite core yoga class in Los Feliz. “Wow!” I thought. He drove to the east side for me. He must really think I’m special. He was giggling the entire time, charming the teacher and the rest of the class. He couldn’t find his core so instead he writhed around on the floor in a happy baby pose, looking like an actual baby.

After doing his schtick for a while I could sense the teacher was getting annoyed at the distraction. And as much as this felt like a scene from the TV show he was on I knew it was time to end the episode. I suggested we leave early and he immediately shrieked “Thank G-d!”

Cut to us strolling the streets of Los Feliz like the cutest duo ever. He oscillated between regaling me with long tales about himself, to earnestly asking me about my hopes and dreams with a penetrating stare. I confessed that I wanted to write and direct movies, to tell the stories only I could tell with my whole heart. And as embarrassing as it can be to share your dreams with a stranger, he totally got it. He saw me. At that moment, it wasn’t an intern and a famous comedian — we were just two crazy kids yearning for stardom. He was just a little ahead of me. They say never meet your heroes but maybe they were wrong. We were truly bonding. I felt endeared to him. Behind every man with a beach house and a Maserati is a boy with braces and a dream.

Next up he took me to Skylight Books and bought me a copy of his book (LOL!) and a book about the female pioneers of cinema. Both equally important reads… People kept doing double takes. Is that him? I have to admit I liked the power I had just by being associated with this person. The casual coolness I wore like a vintage trench coat as if this was just another Saturday.

He decided he was hungry and if you’ve ever known a man, you know this is practically a medical emergency. We slipped into a local diner, and after bragging about his new healthy lifestyle, he ordered the sandwich that uses pancakes for bread. I thought, “Maybe it was his cheat day?” At 26, I did most of my eating privately. Lunches with powerful men meant I was ordering a salad. As if to say, “I have no needs. I am a blank slate. I am a lettuce leaf of a woman. Light, airy, easy to mold.”

As he devoured his sandwich (damn it looked good) he decided I was ready to hear the truth: He told me how talented I was and then he dropped the P word: Potential. Ah yes potential. Apparently, I had loads of it but something was holding me back. And I desperately needed his help.

For years I had been busting my ass to get my films made in between back-breaking PA work. But my days of struggle were over. Finally, I had the golden ticket and he was sitting right in front of me eating a sandwich made of pancakes. He offered to mentor me. Promising to help take me to the next level. He paid the bill and walked me to my car and I thought, “Wow this is the moment my life changes forever!”

But as we lingered by my Toyota Yaris in the unforgiving afternoon sun things started to get dark. He confessed that even though he was a happily married, women were constantly throwing themselves at him. Like this one waitress from Detroit who he showed me a photo of. I instantly felt the pressure to validate his taste, “Yeah she’s super hot!”

But even though all these women wanted to fuck him and he wanted to do all sorts of stuff to these women, he wouldn’t because he was married– or at least he would do it quietly. He would never embarrass his wife because he’s a good guy. But with all his newfound fame, how could he not take advantage? I was so confused. Was this part of his mentorship program? Was I gonna have to be a wingman? I was uncomfortable but quickly pushed it down because when someone promises to change your life forever you have no choice but to high-five them over that sweet Detroit pussy.

As he kept blabbing, a pang of recognition washed over me like seeing your ex at Trader Joe’s. This guy wasn’t my mentor. I was his entertainment for the afternoon. My ‘energy’ had gotten his attention but it wasn’t enough to keep it. As the sun faded, I could see his interest fading as well. I wasn’t using him for power. He was using me for play. I was his toy and like any toddler, he got bored and was ready for a new one.

He promised he’d call me soon but we both knew he wouldn’t. He had his fun and now it was time to get back to the west side for dinner with his family. And it was time for me to get back to my trailer to eat carbs alone. I added his book to my bookshelf but I felt no urgency to read it. It wasn’t gonna change my life. I was the only one who could do that.

Over the years, many men have bought me dinner and lectured me about how much potential I have. Dangling it in front of me like the bill, like with one flimsy signature they could make everything happen for me. I still attend these dinners sometimes, afterall I do love dinner, but I listen a little less closely. I don’t really ponder my potential anymore or who I need to make laugh in order to make my dreams come true.

I’m too busy making shit.