HOME | DD

Description
“No one’s gonna take me aliiive! The time has come to make things riiiight!”

The dj’s (small “d,” not yours truly) set suddenly cut over to the anthemic chorus of an old Muse song.

“You and I must fight for our riiights! You and I must fight to surviiiive!”

And there he was on the top of the beach wall, Quinton Nash himself with his arms raised to the sky in what I’m sure, in his mind, was an awesome pose. His voice boomed out over the crowd through his Bluetooth earpiece mic.

“THERE YOU ARE, QUANTUMYEAH PEOPLE! CAN I GET A FUCKIN’ WHAT-WHAT?”

And most - most - of his employees obliged with a limp “what what” in return. Triz just sighed and Ree responded with, “Huh? Speak up! We can’t hear you!”

In all my time hanging out with Triz, I’d never seen Nash before, but he looked like he does in the media. Kind of a pudgy dweeb with an unapologetic soul patch. The way she sums him up: “The only thing worse than a Broseph, is a nerd who ascends to Broseph status.”

He kind of swaggered into the crowd and was appropriately mobbed by his grateful (and well-fed and liquored-up) employees. Next to us, I heard Vince mutter, “You can do this. He will remember your name!”

I couldn’t help but respond, “Mr. Nash doesn’t know your name?”

Vince’s face went even redder, “He’s really good at pretending he does. He’ll call me any familiar but vague nickname to make it seem like he’s acknowledging how close we are. ‘Buddy,’ ‘Pal,’ ‘Guy,’ ‘Champ,’ ‘Chief’ - all the classics. But maybe today.” He took a deep breath, “Wish me luck.”

And I was about to do that very thing, when Ree started squeeing. She is not a girl you often hear squeeing. Apparently, she recognized the blonde woman who’d shown up with Nash. “Oh - my - GOD! It’s Randee Rhyder!”

She seemed disappointed that the name didn’t register with me.

“She’s only the biggest pornstar currently alive on the planet! Don’t tell me you haven’t seen #SexSelfie !”

“Uh, I must’ve missed that one?”

“She won all the awards! Like, porn oscars!”

I’d never seen her fan girl out like that - seriously, I once saw her make a chai latte for Alexis Bledel like it was no big - so it was both amusing and kind of alarming. She immediately had to ask Triz if Randee and Quinton were actually dating. Triz said she didn’t know, but that she’d been showing up with him at all the public QuantUmYeah events. Triz thought it more likely that it was a “business arrangement.” Eewww.

Ree abandoned us to chat up her celebrity crush just as Vince got close enough to try and hand off his horrifying “Roe-nuts” to Quinton and I was close enough to hear him say, “Oh, hey, thanks, man. Good to see you, killer” while giving Vince a bare minimum high-five. He was obviously not focused on Vince at all, but who he was apparently very interested in?

Triz.

Description
“No one’s gonna take me aliiive! The time has come to make things riiiight!”

The dj’s (small “d,” not yours truly) set suddenly cut over to the anthemic chorus of an old Muse song.

“You and I must fight for our riiights! You and I must fight to surviiiive!”

And there he was on the top of the beach wall, Quinton Nash himself with his arms raised to the sky in what I’m sure, in his mind, was an awesome pose. His voice boomed out over the crowd through his Bluetooth earpiece mic.

“THERE YOU ARE, QUANTUMYEAH PEOPLE! CAN I GET A FUCKIN’ WHAT-WHAT?”

And most - most - of his employees obliged with a limp “what what” in return. Triz just sighed and Ree responded with, “Huh? Speak up! We can’t hear you!”

In all my time hanging out with Triz, I’d never seen Nash before, but he looked like he does in the media. Kind of a pudgy dweeb with an unapologetic soul patch. The way she sums him up: “The only thing worse than a Broseph, is a nerd who ascends to Broseph status.”

He kind of swaggered into the crowd and was appropriately mobbed by his grateful (and well-fed and liquored-up) employees. Next to us, I heard Vince mutter, “You can do this. He will remember your name!”

I couldn’t help but respond, “Mr. Nash doesn’t know your name?”

Vince’s face went even redder, “He’s really good at pretending he does. He’ll call me any familiar but vague nickname to make it seem like he’s acknowledging how close we are. ‘Buddy,’ ‘Pal,’ ‘Guy,’ ‘Champ,’ ‘Chief’ - all the classics. But maybe today.” He took a deep breath, “Wish me luck.”

And I was about to do that very thing, when Ree started squeeing. She is not a girl you often hear squeeing. Apparently, she recognized the blonde woman who’d shown up with Nash. “Oh - my - GOD! It’s Randee Rhyder!”

She seemed disappointed that the name didn’t register with me.

“She’s only the biggest pornstar currently alive on the planet! Don’t tell me you haven’t seen #SexSelfie !”

“Uh, I must’ve missed that one?”

“She won all the awards! Like, porn oscars!”

I’d never seen her fan girl out like that - seriously, I once saw her make a chai latte for Alexis Bledel like it was no big - so it was both amusing and kind of alarming. She immediately had to ask Triz if Randee and Quinton were actually dating. Triz said she didn’t know, but that she’d been showing up with him at all the public QuantUmYeah events. Triz thought it more likely that it was a “business arrangement.” Eewww.

Ree abandoned us to chat up her celebrity crush just as Vince got close enough to try and hand off his horrifying “Roe-nuts” to Quinton and I was close enough to hear him say, “Oh, hey, thanks, man. Good to see you, killer” while giving Vince a bare minimum high-five. He was obviously not focused on Vince at all, but who he was apparently very interested in?

Triz.