I dreamt that I was at some sort of event, out on a hillside with a lodge and large patios. Everyone was drinking and mingling. I was sitting at the sign-in table and I looked up the hill and I see a woman tumble out of her chair and people laughing. The next thing I know here comes Bea Author from the Golden Girls with a glass of prosecco (I’ve never had this, I’ve just read about it in blogs) and she tells me I have to drink it because she was really embarrassed when she fell out of her chair and if I drink it then it will erase the memory for her. I said, “but I am sober.” She said, “No darling, your job at this event is to drink away everyone’s pain and embarrassment. Bottoms up” and she put it in my hand. And I won’t lie, a little part of me was glad that was my job for this conference. So, I drank it and thought this might not turn out so well. I’m going to get really drunk.
And then I woke up wondering how the hell Bea Author got into my dreams. I couldn’t remember if she had died already or not. She has, it took me a minute.
I have a funny story about a friend of mine who met her once (and it might just be a story he made up,) he’s an actor and lives in New York and he went up to her at a party and was telling her that he loved her work and Betty White and all of the other Girls and she turned to him looked him square in the eyes and said, “Betty White is a cunt.” With a hard emphasis on the “t” sound and walked away. He about fell on the floor laughing.