Lies That Chelsea Handler Told Me - Chelsea's Family, Friends [43]
“What’s your game plan?” she asked.
“I’m on the phone with Sydney.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Whatever. It’s not like you don’t call her.”
“Not every day. You have to stop taking advantage, Amber,” she said.
Chelsea and I have known Sydney for years. We have each driven over sixty miles outside of Los Angeles to see her, for the sole purpose of pumping her for information about our lives—as if she weren’t onto us. She knew exactly what we were doing. But I think she enjoyed our company as much as we enjoyed the brain-picking sessions.
In fact, one day Chelsea even endured an hour-long lecture on birds from Sydney’s boyfriend, who is a falconer, just to get a kernel of information from Sydney. Who’s the asshole now?
Sydney once told Chelsea she would have a talk show one day, way before she had one. Chelsea didn’t believe her. Back then, she had no desire for a talk show. So, regardless of how Chelsea likes to poke fun at my friendship with Sydney, she’s still a true believer.
“See if Sydney tells you that I hooked up with P. Diddy last night,” Chelsea said.
“Oh, my God, did you really?”
“Call me when you’re done.”
“Wait, are you really sleeping with P. Diddy?”
This is a recurring problem with Chelsea. You can’t believe a word she says. She’s the girl who cried wolf.
“Hello?”
There was a dial tone, a Chelsea specialty. When she is done talking, she hangs up mid-sentence. This isn’t reserved for phone conversations, either. It is Chelsea’s MO for all forms of contact. When she is done with whatever it may be—a party, a date with a guy, dinner with a friend, a phone call—she’ll abort. She’s not very good with good-byes.
I called Chelsea back to pump her for the P. Diddy info, but she wasn’t biting. She just said, “This is going to be an interesting fall…” Then, clearly changing the subject: “What are you and the Persian doing for New Year’s?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.”
The Persian she was talking about was my fiancé, Zoughi. She’s never called him by name. I know, you’re probably thinking, Fiancé? Weren’t you just breaking up with someone? I don’t mess around.
“A bunch of us are going to the Bahamas for New Year’s,” Chelsea said. You guys should come.”
I have been all over the world with Chelsea—Australia, London, Mexico, Turks and Caicos. And the vacations have a lot in common: a beach, a boat ride, lots of Belvedere, late night dance parties, and chicken fingers at 4:00 AM. They’re really the perfect getaways. So I’ve always welcomed another Chelsea adventure, and at that point in my life, the Bahamas sounded great.
I think I was more excited about this trip because it would be my first with Chelsea and Zoughi, and Chelsea was finally accepting that I was in a relationship with the “Persian” and not her brother Roy, whom she had been trying to set me up with since their mother’s funeral. Literally, at the funeral. In fact, Chelsea continued to try to hook me up with Roy well into my engagement and at my bachelorette party. It got a little awkward a couple of times. But that might have been because I always did have a little crush on Roy. He’s the sarcastic, witty, loyal male version of Chelsea. What’s not to like?
Bahamas prep began. I waxed all the hair off my body. I tried to wax Zoughi’s back, so Chelsea wouldn’t take pictures of him and show them on national TV or Twitter, but no such luck. Ever since Zoughi had heard what a pansy my ex-fiancé was, he overexerted himself to be the polar opposite of him in every way. And this included the area of hair removal.
After an eighteen-hour travel day, Zoughi and I finally arrived at The Cove to find the usual suspects in the usual position: poolside with margaritas.
“Hi, Zoughi!” Chelsea yelled. “Hi, Amber!”
We approached the pool, said hello to friends, and met a few newbies to the group. There was always a newbie or two. Chelsea’s philosophy has always been “the more the merrier.” She gets bored with us at times and likes to spice up vacations with fresh meat she can prey on.
“Zoughi, meet Navid. He’s a fellow Persian like you,” Chelsea