Hooked on Bobby

               There we were, dining at a new five-star French Restaurant in the heart of downtown Los Angeles. The setting was beautiful, the food delicious and the company, well, the company was interesting. I was invited to try out the restaurant because of my connections with "foodies" in Los Angeles. "Foodies" are people who love food and eat out frequently. When a new restaurant opens, bringing the right people to the establishment is almost as important as the menu. Back then, we didn't have computers or Facebook  Restaurants relied on word of mouth. Apparently, my mouth had clout in the city of angels.
               I brought my boyfriend Bobby with me and he brought his doll Eddie. Luckily, the waiters were good sports and went along with Bobby's eccentricity. During dinner, the conversation quickly became serious, even though we were sitting across from a ventriloquist dummy. I learned a few facts about Bobby that explained his erratic behavior and what I would later learn was his addiction to alcohol. Back then, I had little knowledge of the disease of alcoholism or co-dependency.

                Despite all the issues I had with my parents over the years, I did appreciate the fact that my mom and dad were dedicated to each other and stayed married until my mom died in 2000. Bobby, on the other hand, shared with me that his father had been married several times. In fact, Bobby’s band played at his dad’s last nuptial ceremony.

“That must have been weird,” I speculated, thinking about how I would feel performing if my parents ever got divorced.

“Nah, it was one of my band’s last shows before we split up. We got totally wasted with my dad. He even sat in with us on a few songs and played my guitar. I don’t remember much but friends still talk about it, we were that good.”

That's all I needed to hear to hook me. I would be the one to help Bobby. 

When we left, Bobby actually strapped Eddie into a seat belt.

“I don’t want anything to happen to the little guy,” he said, grinning.

“Maybe you should get him a child’s car sea,” I suggested.

“That’s a great idea,” he answered. But he never did get a car seat for his doll. 

Guess who's coming to dinner?

Eddie the puppet was well dressed in his black top hat and miniature tuxedo with a white button down shirt and bow tie. I thought it was funny that his mother picked out a dummy that resembled her son but I never shared my observation with Bobby. He never did learn how to use the dummy like a proper ventriloquist but Bobby became increasingly attached to the little puppet, carrying Eddie around with him everywhere. And I mean everywhere. When I was invited to dine at a new five-star French restaurant in downtown Los Angeles, Eddie came.

Actually, we brought the whole family along for the ride, Blondie, Eddie, Bobby and I. When we pulled up to the valet, there was a little confusion. I didn't want to scare Blondie, leaving her in the car while a strange man parked it.

“Do you mind if I park my own car and pay you anyway?” I asked the attendant, motioning to Blondie in the backseat.

“You can just pull up to the front and I will watch your dog for you,” he said with a wary smile. When Bobby got out of the car with Eddie, the valet shook his head in disbelief.

As we entered the elegant space, our laughter turned into hysterics over the fact that Eddie was joining us at this fancy eatery. Quiet and romantic, it did not look like the sort of place that would welcome wooden dolls as patrons. With its gigantic coats of arms decorating the walls and marble floors that gleamed in the candlelight, it was elegant beyond compare. 

Much to my surprise, the staff was playful and welcoming. Luckily, the restaurant was so new that it was relatively empty. French waiters greeted all three of us and welcomed Eddie as if he were our son, not just a dummy. They actually brought a booster seat and set a place for Eddie. When they poured the doll a glass of champagne, I almost lost it, laughing so hard champagne came out of my nose. Bobby finished Eddie’s champagne after pretending to have Eddie sip some. He gave Eddie pretend bites of his dinner throughout the evening too. It was like dining with a mad three-year old.

Eddie and Blondie

 It was Christmas morning in Beachwood Canyon. My boyfriend, who had unofficially moved in with me a couple month's earlier, had just opened a mystery present from his mom. Bobby was thrilled with the ventriloquist doll she sent. Blondie was curious. I could see the wheels turning in her head as if to say: that looks like a small person, sort of. She cautiously walked over to Bobby to sniff the thing he was holding so tenderly. 

The doll was a replica of the famous Charlie McCarthy dummy, the side-kick of vaudeville actor Edgar John Berggren. The duo's popular radio show was credited with saving the world in 1938. When Orson Wells "War of The Worlds" radio hoax caused wide-spread panic, most people were busy listening to Edgar and Charlie instead. Now Bobby's puppet was creating panic with my dog.

“Get away, this is mine,” he said in a menacing tone that scared both of us. I pulled Blondie close to me and we both watched as Bobby put his hand in the puppet and tried to work the mouth and the eyes, moving his own like they too were being manipulated by someone else.

 “I always wanted to be a ventriloquist. She remembered,” Bobby shook his head in joyful disbelief.

“What will you name him?” I managed to utter under my breath, trying to ease the tension in the room.

 “I shall call him Eddie,” Bobby proclaimed. Placing his hand back inside the dummy, Bobby made Eddie bow and shake his head yes and no, sending Blondie immediately into high alert. Someone or something was in her home and she didn't like it. She started going crazy, barking and snarling, lunging at Eddie. Bobby stood up so that Eddie was taller than she was and chased her around the apartment, scaring her until she dove for safety behind me.

“Stop it. Do you want her to like Eddie or not?” I asked. “Let her smell him and see that he won’t hurt her.” Bobby stopped the chase and put Eddie in his lap motioning for Blondie to approach. Hesitantly, Blondie crouched down and walked over, nose first, and sniffed Eddie while Bobby watched. I don’t think Blondie ever did trust Bobby or Eddie. She saw how stressed I was with my live-in boyfriend and I saw how tense Eddie made her feel. But who could blame her with an introduction like that?

The dummy

It was Christmas morning and the first holiday I shared with a live-in boyfriend. Instead of being excited about my relationship, the fact that he didn't get me anything for Christmas made me a bit leery of our future. But I pushed my suspicions aside, at least until Bobby opened his mystery present from his mom. I couldn’t wait to finally find out what was inside.

“What do you think this is?” I shook it.

“Don’t break it,” Bobby grabbed the package out of my hand and carefully started to open it, making sure to fold the wrapping paper and ribbon for safe keeping. I thought it was weird that a guy would do that.

"Hurry," I said. He answered me with a nasty look and moved even slower. Finally, the wrapping paper was off. Inside was a black case that sort of looked like it might hold a miniature guitar or some other musical instrument. Bobby looked at me and raised his eyebrows.

“What is it?” I probed. He unlatched the case and opened it slowly. Starring up at him was the face of a wooden doll. It had a monocle, blonde hair under a top hat with brown eyes and dusty black plastic eyelashes that opened and closed. As he carefully lifted the doll out of the case, its mouth fell open, the red painted lips surrounded a square hallow empty vessel. Bobby was holding a ventriloquist dummy. I laughed so hard! I couldn’t help myself. He slowly took his eyes off the doll, turned and looked directly at me. In that instant, I realized the dummy resembled Bobby.

“What’s so funny,” a hint of a sinister edge was in Bobby's voice. I shut up immediately.

“I wanted a dummy just like this ever since I was a kid,” he said to the doll as he held it up in front of him. He was so careful, treating the dummy as if it was a real boy, eyeing it from all angles. 

Blondie came over to give the dummy a sniff and he pushed her away. I grabbed her and held her close. It was not okay for him to shove my dog but I kept my mouth shut as he made the dummy's mouth move.

The Christmas Present

            Christmas came not long after I introduced the Perkins to my live-in boyfriend Bobby. As Santa's big day came near, Bobby received a large box from his mother in Oregon. Too big to fit under the tiny tree I bought with my equally small salary. So, he placed the present next to our tree and left it there on the kitchen table. 
            The tree was the only holiday decoration in my flat. It sat in on the makeshift kitchen table that I had salvaged out of someone’s garbage when I moved in. It was the perfect size table but in terrible condition. I covered it with a cheery red and white checked tablecloth and had two mismatched chairs on either side. 
           Bobby's mom had sent him a present that was larger than the tree and with both things on the table, there wasn't enough room to eat. I was so curious to find out what his mother sent him. I tried to convince Bobby to peek but he wouldn't. Unlike me, Bobby wanted to wait to open his presents on Christmas morning.

When the big day finally arrived, I acted like a child, waking up early on the day off and singing carols. Bobby and I sat in the mismatched chairs and sipped coffee.

“Here, open mine first,” I handed him a small box expertly store wrapped in bright red paper with green ribbon. I spent what little money I had that year on his gift. I was hoping he had present for me. 

“I didn’t get you anything,” he admitted, embarrassed. 

“Well, Merry Christmas anyway,” I said trying to mask my disappointment. I really wanted to cry. Here was this man who had just moved in with me a couple months earlier yet he didn’t get me anything for Christmas? He didn't pay rent or any of the bills. Basically, he was living off me and he couldn't even buy me a little something? 

I fought back the tears as he opened the present from me. He admired the simple sterling silver ring I gave him, engraved on the inside with the words “love S&B” for Susan and Blondie. He leaned over to give me a kiss.

“Thank you,” his eyes were tearing up. What on earth did he have to cry about, I thought to myself. “You’re so good to me,” he said, wiping his eyes. 

"What do you think your mom sent you? I asked, changing the subject quickly. I didn't really care anymore what his mother had sent him. I just cared about fighting back the tears.

Mr. Happy

Bobby loved going with me to the parties I was worked due to my public relations profession. He definitely had a taste for the high life. As long as Bobby had a drink in his hand, he could chat it up with anyone. He was most at ease in a room full of strangers. It was my close friends and family members that seemed to make Bobby nervous. I felt just the opposite.

The happy, loving couple, Sean Penn and Madonna, who I frequently saw cuddled up next to each other in the front seat of his truck, started having daily arguments with each other. We could hear their voices echo from the castle building across the street. Apparently, our newlywed celebrity neighbors were hitting a rough patch in their marriage.  

The situation between me and Bobby was not much better and I began to wonder about this man who had moved into my tiny space. He was having a difficult time getting a new band together and was taking his frustrations out on me. His constant put downs were taking their toll on me. He complained about my looks, my intelligence, my job, even my dog Blondie was criticized. At first, I just let his comments roll off my back but in no time, I was struggling to stay positive myself. 

When I told my friend Berry Berenson Perkins that we were having problems, she suggested Bobby speak with her husband, Tony, best known for his role of Norman Bates in the Psycho films. What the public didn't know about Tony was his wisdom and knowledge of human behavior. I found out later that Tony had years of therapy which helped him understand and help others.

Bobby jumped at the chance to be counseled by the famous celebrity. But, before he left for his first session, Bobby drank an entire six-pack of beer. I was totally disgusted with his behavior and hopeful that Tony could set him straight.

“I’ve got to focus,” Bobby told me after meeting with Tony. “I’ve got to make a plan and stick to it. I can do it. Tony says I can climb that mountain.” Bobby returned seeming self confident and positive about life but within days, he was back to his crabby self. I called him “Mr. Happy” because he sulked around, so negative all the time. I didn't have a clue that his pessimistic attitude was rubbing off on me.

Clean floor, broken dream

It didn't take long for me to figure out that Bobby was not a Rockstar. He was a professional handy-man/painter/construction worker/odd job for a buck guy who dreamed of stardom. Although he lacked profoundly in the boyfriend department, he was a big help to me in keeping my apartment clean, constantly sweeping the hard wood floors, doing the dishes and making my life look better by keeping things tidy. Bobby even painted the walls of my little home without being asked.

 At first, I really liked having a handyman and live-in maid. But when I realized that he swept the floor every day instead of looking for a job, the spic and span clean room began to annoy me.

“Didn’t you just sweep yesterday?” I asked as I entered my flat after taking Blondie on a walk.

“Yeah but you and the dog tracked dirt in,” he replied.

“It’s okay, we live here,” I said, as he pushed the broom toward my feet.

“Move so I can get that,” he motioned for me to get out of his way.

“You should think about getting a job instead of cleaning all the time,” I scolded as I took the leash off Blondie. He answered me with silence, just the sound of the broom sweeping across the clean wood floor.