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in the Personal Ads: Episode Five Fifth in a Series |
Yes, even movie people
need help getting dates
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Patricia J. Geister used to run a dating service through newspaper personal ads. This series recounts some of her most interesting "cases"--with names changed to protect the innocent as well as the guilty. |
By PATRICIA J. GEISTER
of TheColumnists.com
Alice and Jerri are ladies whose performances I've enjoyed on stage and screen from coast to coast. Jerri chose to live and work exclusively on the West Coast doing movies, TV, and radio voiceovers. Alice is a New York City off-Broadway thespian part of the year and then off to La La Land for TV work.
Growing up with the influence of the movies, I thought an actress had to depend on agents to come up with their daily bread. Either that or they waited tables between times in front of a camera. Alice is a small business owner in the retail and rental space fields. Jerri is a writer, a caterer, and volunteers at an animal shelter. Their families had come up the hard way in show business. As a result, it had been drilled into them never to rely only on one source of income.
Both women had "aged out," meaning they were either on the verge of 40, or had been there and gone. This same type of age gap happens in relationships, too. The "middle age crazies" hit men much sooner and harder. A man will fool himself into thinking he'll appear more successful with the chicks if he can attract a young, slender Barbie Doll type who can stop traffic in her bikini. Okay, but what happens if you ask what were they doing the day President Kennedy was shot? How do you feel when their answer is they hadn't yet been born?
Alice was the first to become my client. Jerri and she had been friends for a long time. Both had been in love with actors who needed their help and contacts to make it in the business. Now these men had gone on to become the flavor of the month, leaving them alone without a word of thanks. No good deed goes unpunished, you know.
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were over 40 and needed some help finding the kinds of guys who wouldn't use them as stepping stones to Hollywood fame. |
Now the ladies wanted to change their prospects from playing the mentor to becoming wives. No more men who used their hair spray or vied for close ups, please. Could I lure the professional, financially stable men to them who didn't lust after an Oscar? Well, I never promised anyone a rose garden or a miracle. I wrote the ad, but the charisma and chemistry were out of my hands.
Another good friend of theirs was a top hair stylist named Isabella. I could have sworn I was talking to Carmen Miranda whenever she called me. She was born into an oil rich family in South America. Movies and magazines convinced her that Hollywood was the only place she could be happy. The older siblings already had made her parents happy with grandchildren. Being the reckless, wild child, they were willing to let her go off and make her mark elsewhere.
Her scissors had worked their magic on some of the biggest names in the business. I was spellbound by her stories about the stars she knew. According to her, Paul Newman and Tom Cruise were the most wonderful men in the world. Paul liked her because she could make his hair look like it still needed a trim. I guess that's a man thing.
Isabella longed to team up with either a good makeup artist or a sexy plastic surgeon. No run of the mill John Doe for her. She had graduated first in her class from a very good Southern California school of cosmetology and hair style. Following that she went on to London to study with Vidal Sassoon. Find her a talented business partner who knew how to make the mega bucks. Oh, yes, he must have a glorious head of hair. If she could run her hands through strong, thick hair on a man's head, she would be happy. Add a big bank account and strong line of credit to his assets and she'd be thrilled.
This trio of fascinating women included gay men in their social circle. My list of clients grew with their additions. I wasn't at all surprised to hear the same likes and dislikes from this segment of our population. My two openly gay men cousins, plus my gay and lesbian friends, had told me much of the same. Love and heartache comes into all our lives, no matter what our gender or sexual preference may be.
Adrian, the best dressed "queen" in all of Christendom (as he named himself) called and wrote me often. Isabella had referred him to me. He was a sweetheart of a person, and the best comedian in town. I'd love to have his sense of style, I'll tell you. Neither the garish nor the kinky appealed to him. Addie gave a splash of class to the room the minute he walked in. I've seen photos of him in both men and women's fashions and he was stunning. He made the outfit, not the other way around.
Addie made it clear that he only wanted my friendship, that he didn't need my help in finding a mate. I call him a people collector. There are those who collect antiques, cook books, whatever. He collected people who wanted to be his friend. Sad to say, his judgment in choosing liaisons failed him, and it was fatal. Addie succumbed to AIDS in the summer of 1992.
Alice, Jerri and Isabella are still plying their trades behind and in front of the camera. Alice now has a Tony in her home. He's a lapdog, not an award. She's an acting coach when she's not on stage. Jerri married a veterinarian in Denver and runs a small theater. Isabella has been keeping company with a wholesale beauty supply company owner. Judging from his photos she sent, he's got a great head of hair. He converted her to his favorite brand of hair mousse, too.
© 2002 by Patricia
J. Geister. The illustrations are from IMSI's Master Clips Collection,
1895 Francisco Blvd. E., San Rafael, CA, 94901-5506, USA.
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