Who's Sari Now?

I blame it on the movie Love Story. “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.”

Quelle bullshit.

An old man named Russell Weller drove his car through the Santa Monica Third Street Promenade and killed ten people. When questioned later he said, “Well they saw me coming, why didn’t they get out of the way?” Oh I don’t know, maybe because they were sitting in the bathroom of a restaurant peeing?

I came out of my manicurist's a few days ago and noticed that my car was parked next to an SUV with a hot 20-something blonde in it. There was another blonde standing beside the SUV staring into space. Even though that’s S.O.P. for 20-somethings in Hollywood, I finally realized it was because she was cock-blocked by another car. Hot blondes could not exit parking and make it to Sunset Tan in time for their appointments. Just one of the many heartbreaking stories in Hollywood.

As I was fumbling for my keys, I saw a woman carrying a take-out coffee heading for the car that was blocking the SUV. I watched as this woman got into her vehicle and drove away. No apology. I looked at the two blondes and we did the simultaneous LA eye roll, which is superior to all other city eye rolls in that we seriously want you to drop dead and we will help you.

A year and a half ago, in January, my best gay friend, an actor, refused to accompany me to India for experimental surgery because it was pilot season, when auditions are held for all the upcoming TV shows. I only needed him for five days, I was paying for his trip and did I mention I was having surgery? In India? Which, as it turns out, is not next door.

He said he could go at the end of pilot season, in April, when all the auditions were over. Apparently he thought I was in charge of when the hospital in Mumbai scheduled surgery. I guess he assumed I would know when the doctor was in town and was keeping track of when the anesthesiologist would be free. I guess he also thought I had an intimate working knowledge of when rooms became available or when O.R.s were booked. I didn’t realize I had that much power in a city of almost 13 million people. All while sitting at my computer in Hollywood.

This was a person who once told me he would take a bullet for me. But obviously not during pilot season. So over the weekend this man called and left a message about how he NOW realized he was a terrible best friend. He quit his twenty-five year acting career 10 months after our falling out because he got no bookings all year. I can't tell you how much that pissed me off. He quits AFTER letting me down. He has a new boyfriend. And oh yes, he NEEDS me to be in his life. But when I needed him in my life, he was too busy trying to book two lines on That's So Raven. Did he apologize for hurting me? For being selfish? No. This was our third divorce, as he had fucked up twice before but I had always let him back in. Yes, I’m a slow learner. And no, he's never coming back in.

Some people equate apologies with weakness. And being wrong. And the only thing people want to be is right. You know that expression, “Would you rather be right or happy?” Turns out people would rather be right.

Take responsibility and say you’re sorry. Here’s what happens if you don’t, your friends will spread the gospel far and wide that you didn’t apologize and will tell everyone what an asshole you are. You see, Dennison Samaroo, I just did!

Here are the people who took care of me:

The flight attendants of Air India.

The guy who does any lifting or moving and a Moshi. Moshis handle all the really hard stuff like bathing you, taking away bedpans and drying your tears.

The R.N.'s. There were 8-9 R.N.'s on every floor in the hospital. In the U.S. there are usually none or 1. They rush to rooms the split second you hit your call button and patiently explained to me 40 trillion times that yes, the morphine was in the I.V. bag and yes I was getting it and to please get my hands off their throats.

The guys worked at the Best Western that I stayed in for the first 3 days I was there. They were so appalled that I had come alone that they came to visit me in the hospital twice. And brought me roses and fruit each time. The guy in the dark shirt is from Nepal and I asked him why he came to India and he said there was nothing to do in Nepal but climb Everest. (Nepal sits right above India) He had no family left and said his father died at a very old age. I asked how old and he said "59." I said that wasn't very old and he said "In this part of the world it's old." The sweetie in the middle was my physical therapist, who came twice a day for 2 weeks and laughed at all my jokes. I probably should have tipped her more. A lot more, now that I think about it.

I’m sorry, but this is the end of chat.