THE SEARCH FOR MR. ADEQUATE
Part XXXII
By Susan Silver

For a change, I actually got out of the house a lot, which helps one’s social life. Duh!

To start the fun, an old friend from Los Angeles, Jack Riley, came into town. He played Mr. Carlin, the depressed patient, on the first Bob Newhart Show for which I wrote. Jack is anything but depressed. Rather, he is Mr. Nightlife and always fun. We went to Elaine’s where I used to go a lot but hadn’t been for ages. It’s no fun there until later in the evening, but I am asleep later in the evening. So we went at eight and made our own fun.

It’s a celebrity hangout, so it was nice to be there with celebs. We met Buck Henry, the great comedy writer and actor ... and thus got a good table. Next to us was an elderly gray-haired guy who sounded familiar, but didn’t look so. It turned out to be Robert Conrad, the formerly handsome actor who was always the tough guy asking you to knock the battery off his shoulder ... ie. chip. He looked really old. I mean really.

And what is bad about that for us, boys and girls. That means that those of us who recognize him are also ... old ... that is, older.

We had a lot of laughs and Elaine came over and sat with us and then a couple of other people we didn’t know joined us and it was a ball. At midnight I did not turn into a pumpkin, and realized this was like the good old days when I was out and about.

A few nights later I went to a friend’s 50th birthday and met a whole new group of really fun people. The host and hostess and the house were very cool. They were in the music business so I’m sure there were drugs available somewhere but I didn’t ask. I love going to new homes and seeing how other people live in the city. Money helps. This was a townhouse on the West Side and stunning.

We had been asked to bring “toasts or roasts” and you know which I did.
My friend is a very idiosyncratic gal, she said euphemistically, and easy to roast, and I do love rhyming. She did laugh, thank god, and has a hell of a lot of friends ... more than I do! It’s nice meeting new people who might be able to fix me up, not that I am obsessing or anything. I got a ride home with a clergyman (who shall remain nameless ... no, not the guy from St. Pat’s who just quit) ... who is lots of fun and might make a good date. We’ll see.

Then I went to a Yankee game with a couple who are owners so we sat in the owners’ box. Frankly, I like sitting down closer to the field as you get more of the real experience, and actually watch the game, but this was more a social event and I am trying to be “social.”

There were some famous people there and one of them had a gorgeous young bodyguard who had just come back from serving in Iraq. I spent a little time talking with him, as I was very interested in hearing about what it is like there...and ok, ok...he was gorgeous and a hunk. I found myself touching his arm a lot and enjoying it! As I was just thinking of myself as a flirtatious young girl, or at least a possible Mrs. Robinson, he killed it by saying “nice talking to you, M’AM!” Sigh.

This weekend I was in the Hampton’s visiting old friends (in age and duration of friendship) whom I hadn’t seen in a while. They had another couple as guests as well and we ate and laughed ourselves silly. I wasn’t expecting to meet anyone as they only know old married folk, but it was lots of fun. But I did go shopping and met another guy. Boys, listen up ... this guy had a very good pickup line and it worked.

I had passed him on the street once, and our eyes met. He was “age appropriate” and gray, which I like, but had a few extra pounds. Then a few minutes later, we passed again and he kind of smiled. I kind of smiled but kept walking. I went into a store and he came in and came up to me and said, “Could I ask your opinion on something I’m thinking of buying?”

Good one! I gave him points for that and we talked for a while. He asked me to go sailing the next day but since I don’t swim ... I don’t sail!

He then asked if I wanted to have a drink, but I had to hurry back to my friends for dinner, so I just gave him my card if and when he is in the city, where he has a place. If he calls, fine ... if not, fine. But I am definitely trying to put out a vibe that says “available.” Not easy ... folks ... just available! And it seems to be working. So maybe saying goodbye to LOML (see Column XXVIII) for real is what was necessary to move on.

I took a tennis lesson, which I loved. I never get to play in the city and it’s great to run yourself ragged for an hour. There was a tournament going on and I ran into some people I know. One guy who is very attractive but is married, introduced me to another guy who was neither. But you know I think it’s all a numbers game, so I told him to keep looking for me as I was available ... not easy ... just ... you know.

By now I was kind of liking the “hunt” again and looking for all opportunities. Lil and Lennie were having a party for their grandkids and invited me to drop over. Hey ... there are divorced fathers and young grandfathers you know. I didn’t meet anyone ... and seeing 25 five year old kids in the pool and on horsey rides made me miss Nate and Ben. Unfortunately, I did not miss the horse poo, but it came right off the shoe.

I took the train home Sunday night as I had to be back for a meeting on Monday and my hosts don’t leave until then. I’ve never taken the train and it was actually pretty good. I like it better than the jitney. Though there were a lot of people pushing into the train, I got into a car that looked spaciously empty having only two rows of seats in it. I sat next to a girl who looked like she wouldn’t be a bother for 2 plus hours and we were off.

It turned out to be the “disabled” car and that’s why it was so empty. But there were no wheelchairs, only bikes stacked up in the empty space and it was a very comfy and private ride home. Do not try this if there are disabled people on the train. Or if I am ... as I saw it first!

But back to the Hamptons. And this is hysterically funny to me ... and hopefully to you. But not to Stan, who had driven me out. Stan had another adventure that is almost not to be believed. But truth is stranger than fiction and it really happened, folks, I promise you I never make things up.

Stan is back on the social scene, as we knew he would be. And he was going to spend the weekend with a very social couple who own quite a mansion. The first night he went out to several parties with them and got home around two. He called me and bragged about the parties which were filled with the “kind of guys you would like.” I asked him why he didn’t get names ... but he changed the subject, the bastard. But we’ll get him. Wait.

The second night, he went out with a date and didn’t get home until 3ish again ... just as he’d done the weekend before. Remember ... how he got locked out and had to sleep in the front seat of his car? Well ... you got it! The same freaky thing happened again. The couple’s houseman had locked the door and turned on the alarm and when Stan got home ... he couldn’t get in!

He stumbled around the outside of the house and found the houseman’s room and looked in to see the guy asleep in front of the TV watching reruns on Nick at Night. He knocked on the window softly and the guy didn’t wake up. So being the good guest, and a total chickenshit, he decided not to disturb him and yes Dear Readers ... and I swear it’s the truth ... he wound up sleeping in the car again! This time he tried the back seat but it wasn’t any better than the front! He now has a permanent kink in his back and a limp.

That’ll teach him not to get the names of eligible guys for me. I have a very powerful energy. Actually I didn’t find out about it until he told me and I had nothing to do with it, but I like him to think I could have. Keeps the fear of God in him. After all, we’ve been friends for 30 years, and he’s like the brother I never had and therefore never got to torture.

The best thing about the week was that the landscape guys finally put the entire terrace back into proper shape. After what turned out to be 10 weeks of noise, smells, aggravation and chaos, I was approaching meltdown. (I am, however, still living with the sticky mousetraps. Don’t ask. But mice like bread, who knew? Mousetraps 4- mice 0.) Now however, I think it was all worth it and the terrace looks wonderful. And next summer when it will be planted, I will be very happy.

What did make me sad, however, was the end of “Six Feet Under.” For those of you who watched this TV series, you know what I mean. For those who didn’t ... you really should have. Try and get the DVD. As a former TV writer, I recommend it highly. Take my word for it. I’ve never let you down, have I? And the last few weeks were devastatingly emotional ... which is good. No really, it is. I cried my eyes out. Mr. Joey, my hairdresser/shrink cried his out too.

In fact, I called my own real shrink in LA for a phone session, because it touched off a lot of my own memories of my parents’ deaths and that is why the show is so meaningful. You learned to love these characters as a real family. Amazing. It made me jealous that I didn’t work on this show. And knowing how lazy I am, that is quite an endorsement.

Unfortunately, I have nothing exciting planned for this week, but you never know what’ll turn up, do you? As long as it’s not a mouse, I’m game. Will let you know.

Respond to susan@newyorksocialdiary.com