Let’s Be VALET of the Dolls

I’m MacKenzie MacAthur, hotel owner. I’ve bedded most valets, but not him. When he refused, I almost fired him. However, his smile and boyish charm intrigued me in this town full of hardened, cynical creatures. I’ve heard that he has much dirt on many people. I might just promote him, given that he give me details. I have a connection to studios and I could make or break many careers.

Mackenzie here. Eddie is simply one of my valets, but he grabbed my attention one dark night when he discreetly escorted a very drunk starlet from her limo to the back entrance of the hotel. You see, I was nearby, consulting with the hotel’s chef, Antonio, about the next day’s menu. I’m very hands-on in my ownership role. Upon seeing this drunken beauty I wanted to know more about her. She reminded me of someone from my past. It was uncanny.

Antonio has quite a story to tell. A Paris-trained chef, he was born to an Italian father and an Algerian mother. He inherited his mother’s wit and his father’s generous male member. Antonio knew the pleasure of women, but cherished his many dalliances with men. In France, it was normal. In America of the 1960s, it was very risky. However, under MacKenzie’s wing, Antonio embraced his true love for men. Mackenzie protected him, giving him a prime hotel suite for his trysts. Little did Antonio realize that his boss was filming every sexual act.

Claudia LaRue was a very eccentric character. Her self-proclaimed age was as far off as her sense of propriety. Off of a movie set, she entered a room as gracefully as a wounded elephant. Most often tipsy, she paraded herself around to all the men in a room, oblivious to the women present. She had been wounded by so many failed relationships, broken engagements, and VD-ridden one-night stands that she reveled in her brazenness. Her latest abortion left her unable to have children. Her pain left her open to any fleeting pleasure. She only wanted a man inside of her, a hung man, to temporarily fill her with a pleasure that could override the unfathomable emptiness that she felt. Her performances in weepy melodramas were no stretch.

Roxie Blaze was dead drunk when her limo pulled up to the hotel. She squawked out a few bars of her last hit song as Eddie pulled her out of the car. She resisted, insisting that she had other people to see that night, but Eddie reassured her that there would be other times. He carried her into the back of the hotel, truly hoping that they would go unnoticed. Her loud rambling was what attracted the attention of the hotel’s owner, MacArthur MacKenzie, who had been consulting with Antonio, the hotel’s chef. The owner rushed to the actress’ side, helping to prop her up. He dismissed Eddie and phoned the front desk to ascertain her room number. How had he not known her before? Certainly he would have known of such a beauty checking into his hotel. It struck him that she looked so familiar, besides. Then he noticed that she held a clump of hair in her hand.

Anyone wanna help? Let’s keep this going. It has a lot of potential.

I’m Chad Sterling. I make Rock Hudson look like a true fairy. No one would ever suspect that I’m a fag. Thank God for that hotel. Eddie, the valet, looks the other way when I bring in the object of my latest fling. He promises he will keep the paparazzi away from me. I have no reason not to trust him. I pay him very well.

No autographs! No autographs!

Why is there no one here asking? Damn!

“Every night it’s always ‘Sparkle, Eddie, sparkle!’”

“Your Land Rover crapped put down the street!” “The third time this week!”

“I’ll plant my own tree! Well, actually I crashed into it because I was a hopeless alcoholic.”