Star-dust in Hollywood (1930)

Star-dust in Hollywood it was a deception. An immense sloping field was covered with shabby shacks like a Salvation Army encampment. There was no bedding, no glass or curtains to the windows. While Jo dashed off to find the bathroom I tried to get into my evening trousers, lying on the floor to avoid the stares of sinister-looking hobos who were camping outside, their shabby tents ranged under shelters of corrugated iron . The Californian camper seemed to be a much rougher type than his eastern confrere. We had expected the banquet, like all decent banquets, to be at about 7.30, and had allowed ourselves a good hour and a half in which to dress and find our way to the club. But a telephone message quickly undeceived us : the dinner was at 6.30, and we had only a wretched half-hour. Jo's search for the bathroom was vain. We reached the club, at which we were to be the honoured guests, twenty minutes late, and not only unwashed, but visibly motor-soiled. Instead of accepting our formal introductions as nice celebrities should, we dashed straight to the club lavatories and washed. The doctor's wife, a friend from our earlier visit, had to scrub Jo's neck down to the dress limit — there was no time in which to clean merely invisible areas. We then could hold out our newly cleansed hands to the half-famished members. Before entering the supper-room I examined our instruments to see if any strings had broken, but to my dismay found that the plectrum of Jo's laud had somehow been jerked from the case and was lost. The shops by now were all shut, but luck discovered in the building a beauty parlour, and in the beauty parlour an eyebrow-brush, like a small tooth-brush. Our performance was saved. Meanwhile Jo had her troubles. My breathing had become so difficult that I was forced to whisper as we went in to dinner : "I don't think I can possibly talk. You will have to give the lecture alone." And so, in the intervals between the courses, Jo, with an old lady on either side murmuring [16]