Starchela in LA

Chapter Three: ABOUT LAST NIGHT

Chapter Three - ABOUT LAST NIGHT

Last night was intense. First, meeting Shane, and then braving the ogre's den. After surviving both, I didn't get much sleep. And here's what kept me awake: A) Meeting Shane; B) Ogre's brew; C) Natalie stealing the ogre's voodoo doll.

This is how the rest of the night played out. As we entered the ominous Rashad's apartment, I Tweeted, "I enter Apt. 10A. If I don't tweet again in 1 hr call help."

"The world knows we're here," I warned Rashad. He just grumbled something. The smell of his cooking was filling the place. The apartment seemed shabby and unclean and semi dark and not tidy at all. Details escape me. I remember thinking, why am I here? Because I couldn't let Natalie go in alone. Why was she there? I didn't know.

We moved some stuff and sat on the sofa. Some Middle Eastern music was playing, very jarring at this time of the night. It was like inviting you to belly dance or something, to move your butt and hips. He changed it. Played some kind of jazz. Just as bad. He probably thought it was cool, lounge, sexy music. Not by a long shot. There was some sax in it and that's the best that could be said about it.

Natalie and Rashad talked about spices while he set up a table and plates. She was so different from the girl at the Hollywood party. She's obviously interested in dietology and healthy eating and all that – after all she's an actress and an assistant/receptionist, she needs to look good – but discussing obscure Middle Eastern and Indian cuisine like a pro, that got my admiration. There's a lot to admire in my new roommate and a lot to learn. But I think she's a bad girl.

When Rashad ducked into the kitchen, Natalie scurried to a shelf, grabbed something, and tossed it in my lap.

"Hide this."

I just stared at it. A doll. Sewn of rags and hay and patches of silk. Black hair, green buttons for eyes.

"What is this?"

"Hide it."

He was coming back from the kitchen. I was sitting with the doll in plain view in my lap.

"In your bag," she hissed and took her seat.

He entered. I shoved the doll into my purse. He carried the plates to the table.

"Ready," he said.

The meal was delicious, but I couldn't give myself to it. I love to eat, I love ethnic cuisine. I could feel the doll in my purse. "Only past two in the morning would I allow this kind of food into my system," Natalie blabbered. She's a good actress, it sounded like flirtation but it wasn't tacky.

The ogre was grumbling something. He kept shooting glances at me. I must have looked guilty as hell.

"She kept flirting with my boyfriend all night, that's why she looks like the cat that ate the canary," Natalie explained.

"Whatever," he grumbled with his mouth full. "Maybe she'll steal your boyfriend."

"Dream on. I'm sorry, Rash, you know we have no future together," she said and put her hand on his sweaty, hairy arm.

Finally, we started for the door. I knew that he'd grab my purse or I would drop it and the doll would fall out. Less than a dozen steps and each one seemed like my last. But we walked out and his door shut behind us.

"What the hell was that?" I whispered as we stumbled towards our apartment.

"That's a doll of me," Natalie said and would you believe that it stopped me cold. "It's a voodoo doll that the ogre keeps."