This weekend was a cultural extravaganza in Marin! Art, champagne, barbecued oysters, and live bands! Big Bad Voodoo Daddy hit the stage and got the crowd going and later, it was Jackie Greene who performed last. I decided to stand out in not so typical festival wear: a bling “Rich” denim baseball cap, Guess rhinestone pink and gray python sneakers, white cut-off denim shorts from Waikiki Beach, black cat-eye shades, and a white Armani Exchange tight fitted white tee. Livin’ la vida loca in Sausalito!
It was an evening of James Bond suits, women in black dresses, champagne, lemon meringue tarts, and craps and Blackjack! The British Motor Car Distributors dealership was full with the sounds of Bond music permeating the space and clips of Bond movies playing in the background. The ultimate car to sit in was a Union Jack painted Jag convertible. I stepped inside, wrapped my hands around the black leather steering wheel, and prayed on my lucky stars I’d have this baby on the road in no time towards Hollywood Blvd. A nice gentleman in a black suit helped me out of the car. I tried my hand at craps as a complete and utter novice, not sure as to how to play with those underlying probabilities, which a 5 or 6 year old kid clearly had in her awareness, as she gave the whole group of adults a run for their money. People were calling me the lucky winner for the evening, but I was just a newcomer to the whole gambling thing. In Tahoe this January, I went at the slot machines like a bull fresh out of a pen, but I came back to the hotel with no earnings, just the memory of bright shiny machines spinning out some unknown prophecy of the “jackpot winner.” That elusive 1 in 100 champ who took it all away with him, the spill of potent tequila gracing the machine after a sad cowboy made his last shot towards the “big one” and got the stars back in his eyes with a triple whammy winning streak. I munched on shrimp, filet mignon on potato chips, and artichoke puffs. The grand prizes listed at the bar put a “gun shot” of ecstatic hope through my chest as I prayed on any or all of the possibilities. Steve Padis diamond jewelry was for sale at the bar, listed on the “Bling Menu.” I ran out of chips after my last run at Blackjack and accidentally spilling champagne on a young uptight 20-something Asian girl and I hobbled my down the street in 5-inch heels, happy from the champagne I had drunk. It was a cinematic evening! I hope I get to be the next Bond girl and ride in the Union Jack Jag convertible!