Lies That Chelsea Handler Told Me - Chelsea's Family, Friends [8]
“What?” I asked while stealing bites of some other poor customer’s pasta. We were standing near the wait station.
“That’s what’s-his-name.”
“Who?”
“That guy with the outdoor apartment,” she said, finger-stirring another iced tea as we surreptitiously watched a not-too-unattractive guy take a seat in my section.
As she passed among the tables, head low, on a mission not to be noticed, the guy grabbed her arm.
“Hey!” he said, smiling. “I thought you were going to call me.”
“What are you talking about?” she countered.
“Chelsea, it’s me, Bobby, from last weekend?”
“Oh, I’m not Chelsea,” she responded, her deadpan already perfect. “I’m her twin sister, Kelsey. Ugh, Chelsea is such a slut.”
She walked off to deliver the iced tea the customers regarded as the best they’d ever tasted, then returned to me.
“If he asks, I’m Chelsea’s twin, Kelsey.”
The only problem in this situation was that I was not a very good liar. “What am I supposed to say?” I asked.
“Nothing, unless he asks, in which case you say I’m Kelsey.”
“But your name isn’t Kelsey,” I pointed out.
“It is today. It’s not that complicated, Stephanie.”
The whole Chelsea/Kelsey thing was beyond stupid, but she was so committed to it, I started to believe she was Kelsey. I had seen her pull the same line on several other occasions when she ran into people she had no interest in connecting with again, be it an old neighbor at the grocery store, a customer from work, or someone she had accidentally fornicated with. One would have thought people would catch on to this, but, as Chelsea explains it so well, “No one would ever believe anyone was that psychotic.”
“Just fucking do it,” she ordered me in the restaurant that day.
“Okay,” I quickly responded, wanting to get this right. Chelsea was the kind of friend who always had your back, so you wanted to be able to do the same. Knowing she was watching and expecting me not to fuck up something so simple, I casually strolled over to Bobby and offered him something to drink, perhaps a Pellegrino?
“That girl over there, what’s her name?”
I looked around, past Chelsea and back to the guy. “Who?”
“Her. The one right there.”
“I don’t see anybody… So, that was a Pellegrino, right?”
“The one hiding behind the bread display.”
“Oh!” I successfully feigned surprise, pleased with myself. “You mean Chels—Kelsey?! Goddamn it!”
I scurried away, passing Chelsea on my way to the Pellegrino.
“You are retarded.”
Like I said, not a good liar. And when I’m on the receiving end of a lie, I’m a sitting duck. While I’m older than Chelsea, I’ve always looked up to her and have a tendency to believe whatever she says, even though experience should have taught me time and again not to.
Such as the time Chelsea called me with a very important request.
“You want me to do what?” I asked, incredulous.
“You gave me that stupid vibrator for my birthday and I think I hurt myself. I need you to reach into your coslopus and see if you have the same injury. I’m telling you, I’m really worried.”
“Why don’t you go to the gyno?” I asked.
“You got me into this mess with that thing,” she not so calmly replied.
Chelsea had been very good to me, so I couldn’t really say no to anything she asked. “Right now?” I asked.
“Yes, right now!”
“Okay. Just a sec. Let me put you on speaker.”
And so I did. With Chelsea on the other end of the line, I pulled down my pants and started feeling around.
“What exactly am I looking for?”
“An injury. Some scraping, chafing, possible scabbing, and definitely something bulbous.”
“Bulbous?” That sounded odd and certainly couldn’t be good.
As I stood there, my foot on my desk, my hand inside myself with such intensity one would have thought I was spelunking, I sensed I had a responsibility to figure this one out. It was like a Nancy Drew mystery, but more awkward, and so gross.
“No, no scraping, chafing, or scabbing,” I said, relieved.
For a moment I was overwhelmed with guilt. What if my prank birthday gift had permanently maimed my friend? The one who had done so much for me? I felt horrible. Until I felt