Overheard at the Sofitel

Last night, La Ria and I got together once again to enjoy more of our industry perks. Namely, partying at a swanky hotel.

We got to sit among the Hollywood wannabes discussing their movies. And smoking. Isn't it illegal to do that yet?

I hate smokers.

I spilled tequila on myself because my stupid swag bag fell over on it. So annoying. It was good tequila too. So we had to sit around and wait for me to dry off, lest the lingering stench of alcohol cloud our ride home. Can you imagine if we got pulled over?

But the true climatic event of the evening came when the old geezer next to me decided to comment on my choice of scotch.

Blonde bartendar: That's the last bit of the 18. We don't have any more bottles.

GPG: This is less than a shot. Wow.

BB: It's all yours.

Old Geezer: 18 year old scotch, huh?

GPG: My boyfriend says it makes me mean when I drink it. I'm not talking to him tonight, so I'll steal this opportunity to enjoy it.

OG: It makes you mean?

GPG: Yes. But I'm Puerto Rican, so that's allowed. He knew what he was getting into from the moment we met.

At this, the geezer made a face like he'd given up trying to understand women. He briefly pontificated on the difference between "mean" and "nasty," then went to put the moves on the budding starlet sitting on the other side of the bar.

It fascinates me to no end how old men will never hesitate to hit on young women. It's entertaining.

Almost as good as free cheese and wine. And scotch. She didn't end up charging me for my miniscule shot. Or the one I spilled.

It was a good night.