Los Morenos

Funny How

Time Flies

1

Nikki

Has it really been more than two years already? Earlier, I glanced at the calendar and saw that this week it will be two years and two and a half months since I left Detroit to come out here to L.A. to make my mark in acting. And making my mark has been a struggle, to say the least. I’ve lost track of how many parts I’ve gone after and didn’t get. Until this past spring the most I had to show for my endless string of auditions was a couple of walk-ons and bit parts on soap operas and primetime shows. I’m very fortunate my agent Erica believes in my talent and is one of my strongest supporters. Early on, Erica and Mario formed a united front and wouldn’t let me stay discouraged when I got rejected for part after part. There were a few times when I just wanted to give up, but those two weren’t having it.

To say the competition out here is fierce is a horrible understatement. It’s bad enough if you’re Caucasian, but for a minority actor it’s ten times worse. I have gone up against so many talented actors of color. You wouldn’t know there were so many, though, by looking up on the big screen. Hollywood seems content with casting the same seven or eight minority actors in every picture. That’s one barrier I’ve had to contend with.

The other barrier has been my looks. Being Black and Puerto Rican—a Blatina, if you will—I go up for parts calling for a Black female as well as parts looking for a Latina. This is where I catch hell. With few exceptions, casting agents are a clueless group of people whose ideas about casting for certain ethnic groups are based on ignorant perceptions. They don’t seem to realize that Blacks and Latinas have a variety of shades and features. Yet I’ve still been turned down for Black roles because I was told that I look too exotic. And I’ve been turned down for Latina roles because I’m brown-skinned. I had one asshole tell me that my coloring was a little too dark for someone playing a Latina. Many people out here have it drilled in their heads that all Latinas look like either Jennifer Lopez or Salma Hayek. Never mind that in reality we range from milky white to coal black.

I’ve done some nonacting stuff, like a print ad for a hair relaxer. It was a bit of false advertising since I don’t use any chemicals on my hair and the hairstylist simply blow-dried my curly hair straight. But hey, it paid some bills. And the voice lessons I took back in Detroit came in handy when I was chosen to do voice-overs for two commercials. One commercial is a national long-running one that I still get residuals from. I thought about going out for a couple of videos but I nixed that once I found out who the artists were. From looking at their previous videos I knew right off the bat they’d follow the tired format, which would more than likely involve me being scantily clad and propped on top of a car, money being thrown at the camera, a bunch of ass-shaking and showing off of rented jewelry. Thanks but no thanks. Besides, unless you’re a known actress making a guest appearance or you’re a popular and sought-after video vixen, they pay you about twenty dollars and a chicken snack.

My first speaking part was playing a waitress on The Young and the Restless. My complete lines were: May I get you anything else, sir? Okay, I’ll be right back with your check. Then, the following month, my next big role after the Jane Blow waitress was of a woman who witnesses the mob hit of an FBI informant and is later questioned by the police on the show Wings of Justice. That may not sound like much, but the night that show aired I was talking on both my cell and house phones, fielding calls from peeps back in Detroit and New York who were so excited for me. Even though Mami and Papi had always been opposed to my choosing acting as a career pursuit, they were very proud to see their little girl’s face on television. They’d seen the commercials I did back in Detroit, but this was nationwide exposure. My screen time was only about two minutes but it was still a big deal.

My real break came about as a result of that role. Amber Woodson, one of the actresses from the popular African-American sitcom Tapestry, was guest-starring on the same episode of Wings of Justice. I ended up sitting next to her in the commissary and we struck up a conversation. I told her how much I enjoyed her show. She gave me the heads-up on the impending exit of one of the actresses on Tapestry and let me know when the auditions would be held. I took my ass up in there and aced the audition and the rest is, as they say, history. Okay, so it wasn’t quite that easy. Being a big fan of the show I wanted this part bad—and I mean bad. I was so nervous I screwed up my lines and then begged to do them over. After I got myself together and did it again, then I aced it. When I received the call from Erica that I got the part, I literally fell to my knees crying in a mixture of joy and relief.

My role is not directly replacing that of the previous actress, Kendall Randolph. She was fired before the season even ended because she was such a pain in the ass. Before landing her role on Tapestry, Kendall’s biggest claim to fame was being one of the models that showed off prizes on a game show. She was up against established actresses who were also vying for the role. Instead of being grateful for landing such a prime part, I was told she walked onto the set in full-blown diva mode, treating cast and crew alike as if they were her minions. She managed to alienate everyone before the first show even hit the air. What precipitated her firing was, she went to England for a cameo in a movie. There was a delay in production and she decided to stay on the film set instead of returning to L.A. for the Tapestry taping. That was the final straw for the execs, who were fed up with getting a new demand from her every week and needed just one more reason to let her go. They didn’t even try and make her honor her contract and finish the season. Her loss was definitely my gain.

Now here I am a co-star on Tapestry. Talk about feeling blessed! My first steady professional gig out here and on a major show no less. Tapestry follows the love trials and tribulations of a group of twenty- and thirty-somethings living in L.A. My character is witty and intelligent, which is great considering the large supply of demeaning roles for minorities. I’m very proud of my role and the show as a whole because there’s nothing degrading about it. Audience reaction to my character has been very positive. I’ve gotten a lot of fan mail from guys who think I’m pretty hot. And since my racial heritage was written into the script, I’ve gotten great response from Blacks and Hispanics as well as those who are both who are pleased with how I’m representing. Of course everyone has detractors, and I saw a few on the message board of the show’s website. They said they didn’t like me and were going to start a campaign to get Kendall back. Oh well, you can’t please everyone.

I’ve been on some sets and I’ve witnessed firsthand how many casts are not just like a family as they proclaim to be on Entertainment Tonight. One night I almost rolled on the floor laughing when I saw a certain bottle-blonde actress giving an interview and doing the family spiel. I was one of the extras on that particular set a few weeks prior and saw for myself: The cast was barely on speaking terms with one another! Also, the aforementioned actress held up production as she chilled in her dressing room, protesting that another actress on the show had more lines than her. Her agent had to be called to the set and coax her out by dangling the little carrot of possibly directing an episode.

Once the Tapestry crew saw I wasn’t anything like my predecessor, just a down-to-earth homegirl from Detroit, they warmly welcomed me into their fold. I became fast friends with them—Amber, Paris, Leon, and Benjamin, as well as Joanne, who plays my mother. The girls and I try to have a sista night whenever possible. That’s when we meet up at someone’s house and just kick back and pig out, have some drinks and act silly.

Since the show is so popular I received instant recognition; I’m still adjusting going from being a relative unknown to getting recognized most of the time when I go out. I enjoy interacting with the fans, and for the most part they’re very cool when they approach me. While some celebrities find it bothersome, I love signing autographs. There are times when it can be inconvenient, though. Like one night when Mario and I were out having a romantic dinner; we were holding hands across the table, looking into each other’s eyes—lost in the moment. Then out of nowhere we heard, "Hey, don’t you play Veronica on Tapestry? That’s my favorite show! I watch it every Tuesday night! Can I get an autograph for me and my friend Pookie? She gonna trip!"

But I knew it was part of the package. To make it in this business there are going to be sacrifices. And inconvenience and loss of privacy are just two of them. It’s a given. It trips me out when my fellow actors clamor for the major movie roles, awards, accolades, and magazine covers and then turn around and pull that Greta Garbo I vant to be alone bullshit. I’m not talking about putting up with the stalkerazzi who take pictures through the slats of their window blinds and follow their kids to school, but dealing with the public who support your career. I’ve seen celebrities outright refuse to give autographs or even acknowledge their fans. They seem to forget it’s the fans who helped them buy those fancy homes to show off on MTV Cribs and that fleet of cars they don’t even drive. You don’t get into this business and cry about the lack of privacy. If your privacy means that much to you then you get a job at Merrill Lynch or Kroger’s and not in show business. If I’m out and about doing errands and not feeling particularly sociable, I’ll hide behind some sunglasses. If I still end up being recognized then I suck it up and put on the sparkle.

Professionally I’m pleased with how things are progressing; things are great in the personal arena, too. Mario and I are very happy. Living together took a little getting used to, though. We both have habits and quirks that call for compromise. For instance, I hate going to sleep in absolute quiet. I have to have some music or the television playing in the background. But Mario likes it as quiet as a tomb. The way we work that out is I go to sleep with wireless headphones on, feeding my ears either Luther or Nick at Nite. We have our lovers’ spats now and then but we follow the rule many old married couples have—we never go to bed angry.

You would think now that I’m on the show we can’t spend as much time together but actually the opposite is true. Before, I was working for an answering service at night and going to auditions during the day and we only got to spend time with each other on the weekends. Now I go to work to run lines and rehearse Monday through Thursday and on Fridays we tape before an audience. I’m usually home a couple of hours before Mario. Plus, the show is on hiatus one week every month during the season.

Recently Mario began researching for a book on the beginnings of hip-hop to the state of it now, like the commercialism and how police agencies are using CoIntelProtype tactics in targeting hip-hop artists. When he gets home he eventually ends up on his laptop working on it. He told me it wouldn’t surprise him if it took him a year or more to complete because of all the research he’s doing. I’m usually sitting across from him memorizing my lines or answering fan mail. Even though we’re in our own zones it feels good to just be in the same space together.

I get a couple of steaks out of the fridge and marinate them for our dinner tonight, fix myself a small glass of gin and pineapple juice, and put on some Gato Barbieri. I then get out my script and begin to look over my lines. Right as I get started the phone rings. I’m so distracted by going over my dialogue that I reach for it without even looking at the caller ID—which is something I almost never do.

Hello?

Hey, Miss Nikki!

I toss my script to the side on the couch. Odell! What’s going on? I called you a couple of times but I guess The Diva was otherwise engaged.

Engaged? Girl, you must be a damn psychic or somethin’! That’s what I was callin’ to tell you about!

Hey, cuz!

Rosie? Is that you?

Yeah, heiferlicious. Who you think it is? Odell and me got you on the three-way. Girl, we both got some news to tell you.

Wait a minute now. Odell, you said something about me saying ‘engaged.’ Don’t tell me you and Rosie are getting hitched, I tease.

Please, chile. You know the only pussy I like has fo’ legs and nine lives.

Rosie and I chortle.

You tell Nik your news first, O.

Okay. Girl, me and Aaron is gettin’ married!

Ahh! I exclaim. Odell, I’m so thrilled for you!

I’m thrilled for me, too, chile!

You should see the ring this bitch got, says Rosie.

That’s great news. Rosie was telling me how good he is to you.

"Mm-hmm. After the three months of straight hell that little girl Jamal put me through, Odell was ’bout to give up on mens lemme tell you. And then ’fore that Robert was workin’ my last nerve. I ain’t even gon’ mention the ones ’fore him. I feel like I deserve to have somebody like Aaron in my life."

You sure do, honey. Be sure and let me know when the ceremony will take place. I want to make sure that I can make it back to Detroit for it.

I sho will, girl. It’s looking like it’ll be next year sometime. Aaron wants to save up some more money for a house first. We both tired of renting. He sighs. I already know my mama ain’t comin’.

Why? I inquire.

Now my mama has known that I was gay since I was playin’ with blocks, and she always accepted me. She can handle me being in love with a man, but for some reason she just ain’t comfortable wit’ me makin’ that commitment in a ceremony. But she glad I found somebody that makes me happy.

And that’s what matters, interjects Rosie.

Really, I agree.

Okay, yo’ turn, Miss Rosie.

Rosie clears her throat. "I got a call from Silk & Velvet magazine and—drum roll, please!—they want me to head out to L.A. for some test shots with their photographer. I’ll be out there in a couple of weeks!"

Aw, heeelllll no! I shout gleefully. Are you serious?

Yeah, girl! I’m serious like a mutha.

Congrats! That’s a pretty classy magazine. They make the nudes look like works of art. Erica has been trying to get me to consider posing for them for some publicity but I couldn’t work up the nerve. Plus, Mario would kill me. I can’t believe my cousin will be in a national—wait, international magazine!

If the test shoot goes well, then hopefully they’ll pick me. Besides, I enjoyed myself when I visited last year and I’m looking forward to coming back. I hope you don’t mind if I stay with you and Mario for a few weeks.

Heifer, remind me to slap you when you get off the plane. You know damn well I don’t mind. I can’t wait to see your knuckleheaded butt.

I can’t wait to see your nutty ass, either.

How’s Chico doing?

He’s doing fine. His head is in the clouds over this pretty girl named Bisola he’s been dating.

Yeah, Mario told me Chico was getting serious about somebody. Where is she from again?

Nigeria. She’s real sweet.

That’s good. I want him to find somebody cool to settle down with. What about my boy Alejandro? I haven’t talked to him in a minute.

He’s all right. He’s busy with the store.

He’s still finding the time to beat it up though, right?

Shoot, eat it up, too. She laughs.

Rosie, you telling me about how y’all did it on the front porch over at his house that night got me tempted to take Mario outside.

Mm-hmm, says Odell. Rosie, you know I love to hear about y’all’s little escapades. It puts all kinds of thoughts in my head. I was already crushin’ on Alejandra. One time I fantasized I was cleanin’ the house in nothin’ but a thong and when I bent over to sweep up somethin’ on the dustpan, he come up behind me—

Okay, buddy! Rosie interrupts, giggling. Stop right there. You lucky I love your ass or I’d be over there busting your head for telling me your fantasies about Alejandro.

Chile, it’s just a fantasy. My heart belongs to my boo. Oh! Speak of the devil, I see that’s my baby Aaron callin’ on the other line. I’ll talk to you chickens later. Love y’all!

Love you, too, Rosie and I tell him.

Hold on, Nik. Let me clear the line, she says. After a couple of clicks, she’s back. All right. So everything is going good for you?

Yeah. It’s kind of crazy between rehearsals, taping, and doing appearances, but it’s all good.

"That’s great. I’m so proud of you, mija."

Thanks. That means a lot to me.

In between all that you’ve got going on, do you think you can take a couple days and meet me in New York?

New York? Why do you want me to meet you there?

Rosie clears her throat but doesn’t say anything.

Rosie?

Well, um. I need for us to hook up there next weekend. I’m going to see Lupe and I want you there with me.

You’re going to see your mother?!

No, I’m going to see Lupe. I talked to Raul the other night and he’s flying out to New York next weekend, too. Lupe has breast cancer. She’s, uh—she’s scheduled to undergo a mastectomy.

Oh no, Rosie! Raul told you the other night? Why didn’t you tell me as soon as you found out about your mother?

’Cause I needed to think about this on my own for a bit. And Nik, quit calling her my mother—she’s Raul’s mother. Tía Sarah is the woman who pretty much raised me. Lupe stopped being my mother a long time ago. But now that this has happened I’m not going to completely turn my back on her. Even though that would be some karma for her ass. Anyway, I’m not staying long. I’ll get there either Friday night or Saturday morning and leave Sunday. I’ll probably just fly back out to Cali with you. Raul is taking a leave of absence from the restaurant so he can look after her for a while. I really need my cousin there with me.

Of course, girl. I’ll go online and get a ticket tonight. And I’ll call Mami and Papi to let them know we’re coming. They must not know about your mo—I mean Lupe, ’cause I’m sure they would’ve called and told me.

No, Raul said she hasn’t told anyone else. He had to convince her to finally have the surgery. She wasn’t even going to try to fight it. She was more concerned about having only one breast and he told her he would pay for her to have reconstructive surgery. He asked me if I would come and see her and I said yeah. I’m glad you’re going to be there with me.

Please, no matter what, you should know that I’d find a way to be there for you.

Yeah, I know.

Are you okay, Rosie?

Shit yeah. I’m cool. But I don’t really wanna talk about it right now, okay, Nik?

Sure, I understand.

Let me go and get ready. I have to put some final touches on my outfits as well as ones for two other girls for the show tonight. I got something else to tell you but I’ll wait till we see each other in person.

What does it have to do with?

Me. And that’s all I’m telling your nosy ass.

I suck my teeth.

Smack them lips all you want, I’m still not telling you till I see you, brat. Anyway, I’ll holla at you.

Just leave me hanging then. I love you.

I love you, too, brat.

2

Rosie

I’m not looking forward to telling Nikki what’s been happening on this end. She’s going to give me straight hell when she finds out that I’ve broken up with Alejandro. I could just bitch up and tell her over the phone, but I’m going to do it in person. Hopefully she won’t hear about it before we see each other. Odell is only going to be able to keep his big mouth shut for so long. I was crossing my fingers that he wouldn’t slip and say something while we were on the phone. Nikki’s already not going to be pleased when she finds out I haven’t been honest with her. First of all, even though I may not tell Nik every single thing, I never lie to her, most of the time anyway. But I haven’t been honest with her about two things. One being the status of my relationship with Alejandro and two, I lied to her about my true feelings for our old friend Crystal after the threesome between her, Alejandro, and me a couple of summers ago.

I’ve known Crystal since high school, but I didn’t develop any feelings outside of friendship until a few years ago. I didn’t let Crystal know how I felt because she was straight and I just knew I’d never get anywhere with her. Or so I thought. The night of our friend Rhonda’s baby shower, me, Alejandro, and Crystal were chilling in the living room on the couch. Nikki was on the sofa opposite us plastered out of her mind. I had been drinking and smoking and was feeling horny as hell. There I was sitting between the two people in the world who each had a