Last night D & I shacked up at the Doubletree behind Sam’s Club for my birthday. [A Mitch Hedberg joke interlude: “Ah man I can’t tell you what hotel I’m staying at, but there are two trees involved. They said, Lets call this ‘something…tree’, so they had a meeting. It was quite short. ‘How about tree?’ ‘No, double tree.’ ‘Hell YEAH! Meeting adjourned!’ I had my heart set on quadruple tree. Well, we were almost there.”] I guessed that Doubletree was owned by Sam Walton, but then we arrived and I saw the tennis courts, shapely swimming pool, “Welcome Darden School” signs, and complimentary Neutrogena shampoos in the bathroom. It was a Hilton joint. The only thing it had in common with Sam’s Club were the free cookies. We watched Knocked Up on PayPerView for $10, then Conan O’Brien, who didn’t cost us anything except my already waning tolerance of Hollywood. I don’t know if it was a rerun or what, but the actress Heather Graham was Conan’s guest, and she was so insecure, giggly, needy, and clueless, that I couldn’t believe my favorite late-night host was playing along with her games.
Heather Graham appeared on set in a skintight, salmon-colored, slinky gown with major decolletage. Conan, being the chivalrous host that he is and knowing what is constantly demanded of him by these actresses with abysmal self esteem, complimented her outfit and behaved like he was nervous being in the presence of such a beautiful woman. The studio audience saw the applause cue card and whistled its approval of the babe. Heather Graham mentioned that her friend so-and-so had designed the dress. [Heather’s publicist before the show: “Conan, Heather would appreciate it if you asked her about her dress during the taping so she has the opportunity to name its designer.”] Niceties, blah-blah, Heather Graham giggle fit. Conan, realizing there is no rational segue to the next question, agreed-upon in advance through HG’s publicist, who thinks HG’s answer will make her seem lively and sexy, even though it actually makes her seem lonely and pathetic, asks “So Heather, how do you stay fit?”
“I do Pilates,” she responds. “I’m a Pilates and a yoga freak. And recently I’ve been taking up pole dancing.” Conan raises his eyebrows in the obligatory fashion and the audience hoots and claps like the sign tells them.
“Pole dancing? Really?” he asks her like he is hiding an erection under his desk, not letting on that every sexy actress that comes on his show tells him that she has a new passion for pole dancing or stripping classes as ways to stay in shape or train for new movie roles. Conan hides his boredom so well.
“Yes,” says Heather. Then she giggle-stalls while trying to remember her next line. “And I love to come home at night and put on loud, sexy music and dance around. I close the curtains and dance for hours by myself.” Cheers from the audience and more gaga looks from Conan.
“What are you wearing when you do this, if you don’t mind my asking?” says the beleaguered host.
“Oh, you know, sexy outfits,” says Heather. More applause from the studio audience, like the phrase “sexy outfits” is extremely evocative and titillating. Conan then reminds Heather, per her publicist’s instructions, that last time she was on the show she talked about playing a lesbian in a movie and how she hoped hot women would hit on her. At this point I was so disgusted and I felt so badly for Conan that I turned off the TV. I couldn’t believe that HG played the pole-dancing card AND the lesbian card. She was overeager to prove herself sexy and desirable, and she just came off as trashy and desperate.
Does anyone else have fantasies about what they might talk about with Conan if invited on his show? I’m still not sure what subjects I would broach, but here are the ones I would avoid because they are so fucking transparent:
1. My secrets for staying so slim and good-looking, with or without live pole-dancing demonstration.
2. My exciting secret life of getting lap dances at strip clubs and making out with other girls.
3. My celebrity girlfriends and our naughty sleepovers.
4. How I haven’t met the right man yet, how I actually have a hard time meeting men, and are there any available men in the audience.
5. How I was a big dork in high school.
Get over yourselves, pretty ladies. No one believes you, especially Conan, and the studio audience is just hoping that their catcalls will make it onto TV. You are lame and you are boring. Next time discuss the Iraqi War or something, an actual event from your life that’s not a contrived, sexy anecdote, or better yet, just let Conan talk. And you’re getting too old for that tedious blonde hair.
P.S. Sorry so mean. Heather, you were great in Boogie Nights.