I was in Vegas (Baby!) for the last few days, eating, drinking, gambling, sunning, and generally engaging in debaucherous Vegas-y behavior. But believe it or not, I couldn’t fully concentrate and enjoy the depravity of it all. Why? I’m fixated on my freaking book that’s sitting on editors’ desks as we speak! Now, granted, it’s probably serving as a big fat coaster, collecting coffee ring stains from assistants’ mugs because the editors are all on summer vacay enjoying their own debauchery. Still, I couldn’t help but obsess. Waiting gets worse every single day.
As I floated down Mandalay Bay’s Lazy River on my fluorescent pink tube (poor me, I know) I remembered something. My agent is in NYC right now. I had forgotten that she’s spending the week meeting with the editors who aren’t sunbathing in the Hamptons with Paris and Lindsay. Holy crap! She could call me at any time with news! Then the signs started popping up all around me. My room got upgraded to a suite. I accidentally got a free dessert. And, kid you not, as the clock struck 12 midnight on 7/7/07 my slot machine suddenly got hot, spitting silver dollars at me. CLANG CLANG CLANG! With each pull of the lever everything became clear. This is my lucky day. 7/7/7 is the luckiest day of the millennium. Woo-hoo! Baby needs a new pair of shoes!
As the day went on I realized that I hadn’t heard my phone ring one time. I usually get at least 5-10 calls from Robin and/or Jay per day. So I checked my phone and, sure enough, the ringer was off. And I’d missed a call! It was from area code 831. Hmm. I searched my brain. 831…831…Holy crap! My agent! She’s the only person I know from the 831. Are you kidding me?? I knew it. Knew it! Knew it! Knew it!
My heart raced and my fingers shook as I pressed in my voicemail passcode. My head raced. My agent, my agent, my agent. Million dollar deal, million dollar deal. Five book contract…aaahhh! “Hello, Eve,” said the soothing female voice on the recorded message. This was it! The call. The moment I’ve waited for my whole entire… “This is Jenny with the Henry Miller Library. We received your registration for the Big Sur Writer’s Conference. Unfortunately, we can’t accept your credit card. Apparently it’s been maxed out. Sorry for the inconvenience.”
So, turns out 7/7/7 was pretty significant. It was my day (to file for bankruptcy). Damn that slot machine. Damn that temptress! Seductress!