I will never understand why people think the way they do, sometimes. Take Belladonna, for instance. She was kind enough to invite me out for a “Girl’s Night” not that long ago. We’ve never really interacted a whole lot, despite all this time in the Bunker together. So I thought, sure, why not?
She mentioned something about going and having a little “adult” fun, so I was willing, in the name of curiosity, to drive us into City in order to make this happen. I mean, yeah, there’s a bar in Town, whose atmosphere I enjoy, but it’s really not a good place for a couple of single ladies to have fun, if you know what I mean. In any case, she made no comments about my driving, which was a refreshing change. Doc always screams about how I’m going to kill him and/or myself one day.
We make it in and hit a great BBQ joint that my sister and her brood frequent pretty often for dinner. They legitimately have some or the best ribs on the planet – just… fall-off-the-bone straight into your face good. It takes a certain level of skill to look good after a giant plate of ribs from this spot, and I wanted to see how she’d fare. High marks, all the way around, though she did look a little lost at first. I’m not sure she’d ever had ribs before. Hell, I’m not sure she’d ever experienced BBQ before, period.
After dinner, we went to a club for some more drinks and dancing. Of course, it was packed with folks a whooole lot younger than I. But the music was loud and the DJ was pretty awesome. Every so often, it seemed like she was trying to talk to me, but I couldn’t hear a word she said. I’d just grin and nod and keep dancing.
Wasted as I have ever been, poor Bella had to practically drag me out of the club. I must have blacked out for a while because I suddenly found that we were at Ground Zero. Now, I might do a lot of crazy, reckless shit, but drunk driving isn’t one. I scanned the lot for my car, but didn’t see it. Weird.
Anyhow, I vaguely heard Belladonna droning on and on over Doctor Camp as she pressed a hot dog and a large soda into my hands.
“Seriously, Crystal Dawn. If you don’t sober up soon so we can chat about your treatment of the Doctor, you might just find yourself in your very own horror movie.”
She let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know if you realize that other people have feelings, but they do. I have spent a lot of…time…with Doctor Camp and he’s an amazing individual if you give him a chance to show you. It would do you, possibly both of you, a world of good if you’d go to him and apologize for your words. And poor Aoife! I know he’s none of our favorite person, but for you to explode on him like that. You may have scared the poor creature away from writing for us anymore.”
And on and on, ad nauseum. But I was transfixed. We made it in time for the final movie of the Triple Feature: Addicted to Fresno.
I have loooong been a fan of Natasha Lyonne since her appearance in The Slums of Beverly Hills. I even subjected myself to Orange is the New Black for a little while, just because I enjoy her as an actress. But I digress.
Addicted to Fresno has been on my to-see list for a while. Released in 2015, it’s a dark comedy about Martha (Lyonne) helping her sex-addicted sister Shannon (Judy Greer) work her way back into society after yet another stint in rehab. Shannon’s therapist (Ron Livingston) dumps his wife for her, which sends her a little over the edge. And by a little, I mean a lot.
Despite knowing she needs this job as a housekeeper in the same hotel that Martha works in, she can’t keep on the straight-and-narrow and ends up fornicating with a long-term, asshole guest of the hotel. Martha breaks in on them after the guy (Jon Daly) starts attacking Shannon – and gets killed on accident. From there, well, hijinks do, in fact, ensue. At the hotel. At a pet crematorium. At a bar mitzvah.
This whole movie is a dark and twisted romp. It also involves Lyonne’s actual husband, Fred Armisen, and Molly Shannon, as well as a few others. It’s got a great balance of both hilarity and touching moments where you see the growth of both Martha and Shannon. It’s not a deep movie, but it does have a few moments of profundity that surprised me.
I tried several times to get Bella to pay attention to the screen. I wasn’t exactly comfortable on one of the benches by the concessions/projection building, but it had a back rest. I curled myself up on it and watched the story unfold. Every time Bella would start up but ignore me when I pointed out something in the movie, I’d ask for more soda. Or a water. Once I wanted a pizza, but I guess they were out, so she brought me nachos.
By the time the movie was over, I had well beyond sobered up (At my age, I’m surprised my metabolism keeps up!) and was getting a little irritated that Belladonna kept wanting to poke at Doc’s and my relationship.
“Crystal. Dawn! Have you even heard a word I’ve said this whole evening?”
“Look, Bella,” I interrupted her as the credits rolled. “It’s like this: everything I said is one hundred percent true. And Doc would happily tell you the same. We have known each other a loooooot of years, hon. We know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, without having to test the theory, that we’d ruin the friendship we already have if we tried to ‘date.’ I felt, though, that between all of the fiends at the Bunker wanted us mated, I need to get it aaaaaaaallllll out there that there’s nothin’ doin’. If one of us didn’t get a little loud about it, y’all would keep having this misguided opinion of us.”
I took a sip of my soda, but it was all ice at that point. Belladonna had a thoughtful look on her face.
“Aoife was a good one to yell at about it. Mostly because he doesn’t live in the Bunker with us. And he’s the one to actually speak the words. So, we good?”
Bella nodded and wandered back off into the concessions. I sat back against the bench and scanned the mostly empty lot one more time. How the hell were we getting home?