September 10th, 1992: Part I

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THE PARK PLAZA HOTEL... 3:00 PM-ish

"ALL THINGS WHOEVER YE WOULD THAT MEN SHOULD DO TO YOU, DO YE EVEN SO TO THEM."

Luke 6:31... The heavy words were engraved on the outside of the towering, but magnificent sand-colored building. Beneath the inscription was a face staring down at us, while along the top of the building were stone angels, gazing to the Los Angeles horizon while standing guard. On the glass entryway, was a giant ornate clock displaying the time, which was slightly past 3:00 p.m. When I squinted a bit, I could see that in the clock's face, were eyes.

Dianne and I had passed the Park Plaza Hotel many times, but we never went inside, let alone paid attention to it. Based on its ominous exterior, we knew it was a super ritzy place and felt there was no reason to go anywhere near it.

Kim and Marcy led the way into the lobby as if they had been there many times before. Even though the party was hours away, a barricade around the building had already been created, and traffic redirection signs were placed around the block. There was a newly erected fence, and filming notifications were posted. Security was already scaling the premises, keeping an eagle eye on the people entering the building. Our friends maneuvered without trouble, while Dianne and I looked for danger at every twist and turn.

The Park Plaza was mostly used for shoots, and Marcy had skillfully finessed a room for us due to her father's prestige. According to the attendant in the lobby, the majority of the people who were staying there were industry people such as the press, a few celebrities, and other nepotism kids. As expected, Dianne and I were some of the only "nobodies" there.

Once we were checked in, we took some time to admire the extravagant hotel. It was a Neo-Gothic structure, with fine details in every nook and cranny. In addition to the gaudy interiors, there had been installed a long, bright red carpet that extended up the grand staircase.

"Oh, this is fancy as shit," said Dianne. "I can't believe we've never been here."

She was looking up to the ceiling, which was lined with massive chandeliers, and covered in paintings of angels and scenes of dancers, statues, and Greek key patterns... The lobby reminded me of an old church.

"I believe it," I said to myself.

"It feels haunted to me," said Marcy. "It's so old... "

Kim's face was pinched. "I feel like we're being watched. Did you see all those statues outside?"

We began to walk to our room. Marcy had flagged down a bellhop to help us take our bags to our rooms. While we were only staying for the weekend, it looked as if we had packed for a month-long trip. Kim, Marcy, and Dianne had all shoved multiple outfits, makeup, hygiene products, and other "needs" into their bags. The cart was piled high with luggage and was hard to move. I tried to help the bellhop, but he swatted me away.

As we walked to the elevator, we passed numerous beautiful young journalists with badges we couldn't quite decipher, and other people with walkie-talkies, more security guards, and posh guests trying to sneak a peek at the action. It was a surreal environment to be in, and the day had only just begun.

Once we reached the room, the bellhop carefully unloaded all of our belongings. Dianne observed the room with awe. Meanwhile, Kim and Marcy plopped down on the bed.

"The rooms are actually pretty nice," said Kim. "I think we'll chill out a bit before tonight. It's gonna be a long one."

I decided to look out the window. From our room, I could see a perfect view of Downtown through the foliage of MacArthur Park.

State of Love and DistrustWaar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu