After you find yourself in the company of great new friends, there are always stories that they reflect fondly upon that involve friends you haven’t met yet. For Jack’s group of friends, whom I had come to call my own, the adventures weren’t just stories, they were legends. And they often involved a gorgeous, busty and hilarious model named Lulu.
Lulu was an Australian bombshell who rose to fame with her appearance on countless magazine covers. I had been regaled with wild stories from Jack as to her wild ways and their adventures together, and I was thrilled when I heard that she was coming to L.A. to visit.
I had returned from the Hamptons after almost three weeks away, which gave me time to clear my head about the Jack situation. I asked him to dinner when I returned and we laughed, ate, had a ball and everything went back to “business as usual,” so to speak. The next morning was a Sunday, and Jack and Sam headed off to LAX to retrieve Lulu and her friend, Alexandra, who was accompanying her to the States. I stayed behind, patiently awaiting their return, while flipping through Lulu’s latest centerfold to read her newest column, “10 Ways To Please Your Man Without Using Your Hands.“
As soon as the girls walked in, they warmly greeted me with hugs and Australian chocolate. I felt like I was back again in my Study Abroad days in Australia, but this time something told me the broads I’d be studying were going to give me the kind of education I never knew I wanted.
Sunday Funday ensued, and before I knew it, I was three vodka sodas deep and basically making out with the Aussie babes I had met only a couple hours prior. The day raged on, turned to night, and Jack and I found ourselves in a nightclub in the heart of West Hollywood. He looked great. I looked great. We were really vibing. I found myself flirting with a chesty bar patron when Jack pulled my arm and told me we were leaving. I said goodbye to my lady crush and headed for the door on the back patio, only to find that the bouncer of the club was re-directing everyone back through the club so they could exit out the front door for reasons I’ll never know.
I was irritated, drunk, and in the heat of the moment was having a real issue with authority figures. Instead of quelling my rebellious attitude, I succumbed to it. The patio door to leave the club was carved into a 15-foot wall that led out into the parking lot. When the bouncer wasn’t looking, I climbed atop a cocktail table and vaulted myself onto the top of the wall effortlessly (I had been working out). However, though my upper body skills were on point, my inebriation took control and I lost my balance, plummeting over the other side of the wall into the parking lot below.
Everything went black…
