Our Lunch with Guillermo Del Toro (or, Ray’s Shitty Vacation)
I can’t fully express the appreciation I have for CRAVEonline in giving me the opportunity to kick it in LA with one of the most totally gangsta ass homies in the film industry – director Guillermo Del Toro (Pan’s Labyrinth, Hellboy, Cronos).
I had a blast in LA! I needed a wingman for the trip and for the lunch with Guillermo, so I took Ray with me. Ray, by the way, probably didn’t enjoy himself as much. More on that later…
For somebody living the Hollywood lifestyle, Guillermo keeps it totally on the real, humble as fuck. When he entered the restaurant and saw me with my backpack and my jacket in my arms fumbling around trying to get to my seat, he helped me with MY bag. When was the last time an Academy Award nominee carried YOUR bags? Never, that’s how many times. What a cool ass dude.
Ray and I must have chopped it up with Guillermo for like 3 hours. Among the topics discussed:
– The Hobbit
– The great Hulk movie debate
– The shitty Hollywood legalities that prevent me from showing him my work!
– The Meyers-Briggs Personality Test
– Blue man dick jokes
– Marriage pros and cons (or, Ray’s wife vs. eternal freedom from the nagging shackles of marital tyranny)
– Real estate and the stock market
– Shitty jobs we’ve held and been fired from
– Feeding beer to cows and having women massage them – by the way, go to Grill on the Alley and have yourself a Kobe burger with truffle mayo some time and tell me it ain’t the best damn burger you’ve ever had.
The experience may have kicked ass for me, but like I said before, Ray didn’t enjoy himself as much. The lunch itself was great, we took photos, got our DVDs autographed, etc. It was AFTER the lunch that things started to go downhill for poor Ray.
You see, Ray has a problem, but enough about his married life. His problem during the trip was a serious case of acid reflux disease, and by serious, I mean one beer and the guy is taking a crap for an hour serious. I didn’t know just how serious until Guillermo and I, being the consummate eaters we are, teased and prodded the guy into keeping up with us. If he didn’t eat like the big boys, Ray was for all intents and purposes a punk ass BIOOOOOOTCH! Now, for those of you who don’t know, I’m a big ass dude – Guillermo is even bigger – and Ray must weigh something like 20 pounds with clothes on. I was impressed, he actually managed to keep up with us – he even finished his food before I did! Alas, his colon made him pay for it dearly later on. Oh, and did I mention that he only had one beer – and a Corona at that? In all fairness, it was probably the medium-rare cooked meat and cinnamon-laced cake that did his stomach in, but still…he couldn’t even finish his Corona. That night he took the longest dump known to man and didn’t sleep until 1AM.
Oh, but that was just the start of his troubles. The next day, due to a shitty Google Map, we must have spent a solid 2 hours in LA just driving around to our destinations. We hit up the hot spots – The City Walk, the Walk of Fame, Grauman’s Chinese Theater – but it took us anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour to get to any one location, much of that was spend driving in the wrong direction. Don’t even ask us how we got back to the airport in time to get home.
But wait, there’s more! Guillermo had recommended this kick ass comic book store named Meltdown that we just had to see before we left. So we did, and we geeked out to our hearts’ content. Oh, and his ass decides to park in a zone that apparently he wasn’t supposed to be parking in. As soon as we on our way back to the rental, we got a punk po-lice waiting for us with a $150 ticket AND a tow truck. He had to pay $200 on the spot just to stop the crusty tow truck driver from taking the car. Add that to the sheisty ass Hertz valet that tried to rip him off (by the end of his shitty day, my niggas was simply not gonna play dat!) and the whole trip ended up actually costing him $450. I couldn’t blame him for being pissy and argumentative the entire time. The only thing that could have made it worse for him would have been a terrorist attack on the plane, surviving the attack, then coming home early to see his wife in bed with his brother Simon. Someday, Ray, we’ll be laughing about this. Knowing you, I’d give it a good 30 years or so. Come on…it’s a little funny.
BTW, Ray, why do all of your mistakes end up costing you $400 dollars a night?