The Little Door

A few months go by and this elderly man keeps messaging me about coming out to West Hollywood. He is good-looking and seems like a complete gentleman. He is almost twice my age, but that doesn’t phase me. So I finally agree to meet.

He makes reservations at the most romantic restaurant in town called The Little Door. He is even better looking in person. Completely gracious and almost regal. We drive up in his brand new beautiful Jaguar and do valet. This restaurant is so pretty. You are under a tent of green trees, red tulle, fairy lights.

Dinner was amazing. The food was delectable. And the wine was the best I’ve ever consumed. Incredible.

During dinner, he tells me his life story and it’s worthy of a movie itself, plus a sequel. You see, this man is an award winning director. And then he starts to pitch me to go into show business. I decline graciously. I prefer to watch, rather than be watched. He offers to invite me out to the set of his new movie and I joke that I’ll bring cupcakes.

After dinner, we go to the valet station to retrieve the car and they pull up with the same color Honda Accord. He goes to get in the car when I inform him it’s the wrong one. I guess valet got confused.

We almost took off with someone else’s car.

Rogue Rose