The Art of the Grift

Hollywood. Am I right? Oh Hollywood, you are a diabolical little trickster. I was 24 years old when I packed up my bags and left my favorite place in the world: San Diego, California. I had been doing theater my whole life, and acting had always been my passion. My intention was to go to NYU to continue my education in theater, with my final goal being Broadway. That was until my acting coach stepped in.

"You're young and beautiful. Try Hollywood first, you'll do well there."

So I went. I had so few material possessions, I was able to fit everything I owned in my car. My boyfriend at the time had grown up in North Hollywood, so he introduced me to two girls he knew who lived in Los Angeles. They offered me a room, so I took it. When I walked into what was to be my new bedroom there were only two items remaining from the previous occupant: a wooden futon on the floor, and an odd rope tied between the futon frame and a hook in the ceiling.

Okay.

Okay?

One of my new roommates told me that the rope was used to hold up the futon frame. It seemed like the floor was doing a pretty solid job of holding up the futon frame, but... I was drunk. And it was Hollywood. And I needed a place to crash. Spoiler Alert: I found out later that the hook's previous job had been to hold a sex swing. Hollywood, am I right?

Hollywood is not for the weak. It's a town that will eat you up and spit you back out. After months there and numerous auditions I did manage to land a couple of small roles in music videos and independent films, but none of these gigs paid enough to get by. I was offered a job as a stripper. Pass. I was later offered a job to bartend at a strip club. Pass. All the while, I kept thinking, "I passed up NYU for THIS? I passed up Broadway for THIS?" Two months later, I called the strip club back. Turns out, they were fully employed. Don't judge me.

I kept at it and eventually landed one of the biggest talent agencies in Los Angeles, and snagged a pretty good agent as well. I was finally feeling like I had made it. There is a HUGE difference between Broadway and Hollywood. On Broadway, you get the roles because of your talent. In Hollywood, you get the roles because of your talents. And by "your talents", I'm talking about "your tits and your willingness to show them to the casting director after apple martinis at Bar Marmont."

But hey. I was finally doing it. Going to auditions. Trying to make a living on waitress tips. Missing shifts because of auditions. Getting fired because of auditions. Luckily, I was hired by a very well known restaurant in the Sherman Oaks area. After a few weeks I had scraped up enough cash to just make the rent.

My diet at the time consisted of canned soup and the occasional roll of bread I "liberated" from a nearby bakery. Each night, the bakery rolled out racks of freshly baked bread into the alley behind their shop and conveniently located at the end of my block. Unfortunately, it didn't take them long to notice the missing bread.

So now it was just the soup.

That's when I learned the art of the grift.

Fun fact: grifting is REALLY easy when you look like I did in my twenties. I was, like, crazy hot. One guy walked into a pole because he was staring at me. Another guy crashed his car. Same reason. In grifter slang, I was a "Crystal".

Hollywood is a party town, and my attitude was "When in Rome..." I was able to get free drinks at clubs, but food was still an issue. Let's be honest: When's the last time that you heard a guy ask a girl, "Can I buy you a Salad Nicoise?" So I REALLY missed that bakery. But at this point I was hanging with stars. I could tell you so many stories. I was smoking weed, doing blow, taking ecstacy, etc. I watched one of my closest friends snort cocaine off of a stripper's ass. Turns out, she worked at the same strip club that offered me a job! Small world.

After these parties we would often go to a very well known deli that was open 24/7. I sometimes had enough money in my pocket to order some sweet and sour cabbage soup, but sometimes I didn't. This was when a Master Grifter taught me how to acquire food. I was beyond skinny. It wasn't from the drugs; people gave me those for free. Let's be honest, no one at a party says, "Hey, you want to meet me in the bathroom so we can eat a sandwich off the back of the toilet together?"

My Master Grifter - my Grifter Yoda - was Dave. I wish he had a cooler name, like "Sneaky," or "Slim." But it was just "Dave." Dave was a location scout, which meant that he found interesting locations for movie shoots. We had multiple mutual friends and we ran in the same group. Whenever we'd go to the deli together, I noticed that Dave always ordered "coffee and a water." I'd order my soup (when I could), and everyone else would place their orders: burgers, fries, sandwiches, milkshakes, pieces of cake and pie. Everyone ordered, but when the waitress finally made it to Dave, all he said was, "I'll take a coffee and a water."

When the food came out, everything looked and smelled delicious. Even my little bowl of soup. So now that we all have our food, we all start talking and laughing. Then I see Dave take his coffee cup off the plate it was on. As people are laughing and talking, he was fully engaged in the conversation. As he was talking to friends and making people laugh, he was secretly sneaking their food off their palates. Dave was GRIFTING. Anyone who had a shake, generally also got the silver canister it was made in, as there was extra shake in it. He would ask people, "Can I have the leftover shake in the silver canister?" He never asked to share my soup. I mean, why would he? He's got a little bit of everything. The thing about it was, no one ever once told him to buy his own food. They let him have it freely.

Dave had now become my teacher, and I his student. From then on, everytime we partied and ended up at the 24/7 deli. I would ask for an iced tea (free refills). Then during our drunk conversations, I would throw my head back and laugh while stealing a couple of fries and whatever else I could grab. Without blatantly giving up Dave and I's grift. That man was a genius.

I stayed in Hollywood for a couple of years and even did some stand-up comedy. Performed at the Improv on Melrose. Studied at the Groundlings, which is a stepping stone to Saturday Night Live. However, I got tired of being stuck in trailers for hours on end. I got tired of the scene. I got tired of the parties. I just got tired. I watched my boyfriend whither away from the man he once was, drowning in cocaine and alcohol. I wanted out. So I packed up my few belongings and left. Do I regret it? No. I got to live my wild times. Would I ever go back? No. To be honest, the only thing I miss is that 24/7 deli.

The Hollywood grift isn't just about drinks or food. It's about sacrificing yourself to get to where you want to be. Which was something I was not willing to do. Am I sad that I didn't become famous? Nooooooooo. With social media the way it is, I'm more than happy to be a mere Yogi. I have found my peace. I have found my calling. But I will never, ever forget, the art of the grift.