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Authors: Izabella St. James

Bunny Tales (34 page)

BOOK: Bunny Tales
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Although we had always reassured Holly that no one wanted her position as number one Girlfriend, I slowly realized that perhaps Emma and Susan thought otherwise. Although Emma didn’t want to do any of the work involved in having that position, she would have loved for Susan to take Holly’s place, and Susan would surely go along with it. I couldn’t believe they were even thinking in those terms. Maybe Holly knew that, and that was why there was so much animosity between her and Emma? All I knew was that I just wanted to stay out of it and make the last few months as pleasant, or as painless, as could be.

Susan was worried about leaving the Mansion because she did not have enough money saved up at the time, and Hef never asked if you had any money when he kicked you out or you were leaving by choice. He did not ask a girl if she had enough money to make a deposit on an apartment, if she was going to be okay, or if she needed money to get started. Even the maids got severance pay when they got laid off. Hef’s Girlfriends get nothing. When you told him you were leaving or if he told you that you should leave, you were out of his sight and out of his concern.

I was disappointed that Emma and Susan were looking for another sugar daddy instead of looking to themselves to build their own lives. But they always reminded me that they had no qualifications and no education; Susan worked at a department store, and what was Emma going to do? A sugar daddy was actually much better than some of the other options they discussed. I understood them, but it made me sad to recognize that we had nothing in common past our shared experience of life at the Mansion. I realized that the end of my stay at the Mansion would most likely equal the end of my friendship with the girls.

20: Fear and Loathing in Holmby Hills

“ Our discontent begins by finding false villains whom we can accuse of deceiving us. Next we find false heroes whom we expect to liberate us. The hardest, most discomforting discovery is that each of us must emancipate himself.”

—Daniel J. Boorstin

 

 

I
t is amazing how you can come to despise the things you once thought so luxurious and glamorous. When I first moved into the Mansion, I felt like a princess; after two years, I felt like the princess that was locked up in the tower and yearned to escape. I recall that when I first moved in, I thought Tammy was crazy for staying at the Mansion for
two
years, how could she not want her own life? Now I found myself approaching the two-year anniversary. I had to leave, for so many reasons. What toll did this silly hedonistic life ultimately have on the participants? I don’t know about long-term damage, but in the short run it made me very tired. At the most basic level, I grew tired of my surroundings. My room was small and claustrophobic. The furniture in it was old and damaged. I love antiques, but there was nothing to love about this setup. And it wasn’t just my room—the glamorous veneer of the Playboy Mansion started to peel off and I saw a house that was old and grimy. The dirty hallway carpet and the curtains that smelled like dog-piss. I felt stifled in that house. Yes, the grounds are stunning, but there is only so much time you can spend outside.

The tension and the antipathy among the girls became insufferable. At the end of December 2004, Candy departed, leaving the group sharply divided—Holly and Bridget on one side, and Emma, Susan, and me on the other. There was no buffer. There was no one else to pick on, talk about, or mutually dislike. The battle lines had been drawn, and it was just a matter of time before something big occurred. At the beginning of the year I gave myself until the two-year mark, May 2004, to leave the Mansion. The last few months were just a matter of getting by, so I stayed neutral. While the hatred between Holly and Emma grew, I stayed out of it. I maintained a good relationship with Holly and stayed friends with Emma and Susan. I avoided Bridget because we had nothing to talk about. And then a new girl entered the group. Her name was Kendra, and she was one of the naked painted girls at Hef’s birthday party in April 2004. Her job was to hand out Jell-O shots to all the guests, but Kendra stood firmly in front of our table all night to be sure that Hef saw her. He did. He invited her out with us, and strangely enough, Holly and Bridget took her under their wing. We understood what they were up to, but we were too disinterested to do anything about it. We knew Kendra was really just like us; I saw her doing her booty dance at the clubs, looking around for boys, and flirting with the security guys. I knew she wanted to be a Girlfriend and it was in her interest to befriend Holly and Bridget, but I realized the limits of that friendship. I knew as soon as we were gone, they would turn against her because she was younger, more attractive, and had an outgoing personality. I couldn’t figure out why Kendra, at eighteen, would want to live at the Mansion. I was twenty-six years old when I moved in, I had several boyfriends, and I had accomplished all of my educational goals before that. And all of the other girls, except Holly, were older than me. But the butlers told us that Kendra was a stripper from San Diego, and thought that moving into the Mansion was the best thing she could do in her life to that point. I was also a little disappointed in Hef; I thought dating an eighteen-year-old was a bit much, even for him.

The situation was getting progressively worse. We would hear rumors, from the butlers, from Playmates and other Mansion guests, about all of these plans Holly and Bridget were concocting. For example, to make us look bad in Hef’s eyes, they decided to suggest going to movies that they knew we would not be interested in going to. So when Hef planned the movie night, we would decline, and they would have a chance to point out to him that we did not want to spend time with him. At this point, not one of the three of us was having sex with Hef. It was pointed out to him that he didn’t really need us to have a good time because we were not contributing anything. Other random rumors began appearing, such as the one that I had a boyfriend and he was in a band. I almost fell over with laughter when I heard that one. I had worked with Henry two years before at Playboy, maybe for two months total. I had not spoken to the guy in months. Now for some reason, two years later, there was another outbreak of rumors that I had this rocker boyfriend. They also planned on following me and catching me in the act. The act of what, I don’t know, but I welcomed them to try. They were only helping me keep the real identity of the closest thing I had to a boyfriend—Justin—hidden. I wasn’t afraid of getting caught, nor did I feel attacked. I just could not continue living in the same house as these unbearable people whose main goal in life was to plot against me and my friends. It made me question who I was and why I was allowing myself to be surrounded by such mean-spirited people.

The most important and powerful reason to leave was personal. After all those years in school, I could not help but wonder if I wasted my youth with my nose in the books, while people were having the time of their lives. My moving into the Mansion was totally out of character for me, but I wanted to make up for lost time, to drink life up. Living at the Mansion allowed me to catch up and even exceed everyone else. You could say I was “drunk with life.” In a total reversal, I was now wondering whether I was wasting my late twenties living a superficial life without any meaning. I could not help but feel that I was a character in Hef’s Bunnyland. We were all riding his coattails. I had too much pride to continue doing that.

I began focusing on my life and spent my free time preparing to leave the Mansion. I saved any money leftover from my allowance and looked into buying a condo. I found a place in my beloved Malibu and made an offer on a condo. I was so excited, the future looked bright, and I could not wait to live my life. At the same time, Emma had found a condo in Hollywood and purchased it. She spent her time decorating it and planned for Susan to move in with her, which was mutually beneficial since Susan would have a place to go and Emma had someone to help her pay the mortgage. Holly and Bridget had no idea that we were ready and able to leave the Mansion. We had great places to live and lives waiting for us; all of their plans and schemes were nothing but entertainment to us at that point.

Life at the Playboy Mansion wasn’t all parties, money, and clothes. When the fog of drinking and partying cleared, the overwhelming tension among the girls became excruciating. Like I said before, it was comparable to the reality show
Survivor
; the main Girlfriend and her sidekick were always plotting to have us voted off. We knew it, and we went on having as much fun as we could and throwing it in their faces. On
Survivor
the contestants swallow their pride, bear the pain, and fight through the day, knowing that they can win a million dollars and it will change their life. What was I playing for? I got the car, I got the fake breasts, but there wasn’t a million dollars at the end of the struggle, so why continue to struggle? I decided it was time to vote myself off. The last few months at the Mansion were just going through the motions. In retrospect I wish I would have enjoyed it more, but I didn’t. I was in a rush, in a rush to save money and live freely. It was a waiting game—waiting to leave, waiting for an excuse to make a graceful exit. An opportunity presented itself sooner than I expected.

In light of the fact that I was going to leave soon, and that Emma and Susan had to prepare for this possibility as well, we decided to get some lastminute benefits. Susan asked for eye surgery for her birthday—well before her birthday. Emma and I went to talk to Hef about possibly getting new cars. Emma’s car constantly had problems, so she was hoping to trade it in. I did not want a new car; I thought I could ask him for a couple thousand dollars to pay on the car to lessen my monthly payments. We asked him to think about it. A few days later, Emma and I spoke about it in the morning and wondered if he made a decision. She decided to call him in his bedroom to find out. A minute later, she called me back; I knew it was her, but she was silent at first. Then she said, “He asked me to leave.” I was incredulous. My mind raced—he has no reason to kick her out, she didn’t do anything. “He said, ‘I can’t believe you are asking me for a car, I think it’s time for you to leave.’”I was shocked. I immediately realized that this had been brewing for quite some time. I’m certain it was the result of systematic bad-mouthing of Emma to Hef by others.

I grabbed my purse and left. I really did not want to run into Hef; I needed time to think. I did not know what to expect. Was he going to let me go as well? Was this the right time to tell him that I was going to move out? When I got home a few hours later, Hef came into my room to talk. He informed me that he had asked Emma to leave, and he wanted me to think about what I wanted to do and was hoping we could work things out. I didn’t hesitate. I took the opportunity to tell him that I thought it was time for me to go as well. He was shocked; I think he was hoping that I would stay and give it a shot considering Susan was still there. I told him I wanted to take the Bar exam in the summer and that I really couldn’t study while I was still living there. He said, “But you don’t have a place to live. Where are you going to go?” I told him I had just gotten a place, which was true. He wasn’t expecting me to be prepared. I told him I was not in a hurry, but I thought it was time for me to move on. I admired Hef for living out his fantasies, and the fantasies of others. He is an example of not accepting the life you are handed, but holding onto the dreams of your childhood and pursuing them.

I told him I had dreams of my own that I wanted to pursue, and I reminded him that when he was my age, he began
Playboy
magazine. I needed to go figure out who I was and my calling in life. I told him I would talk to Susan and that we would both wait and see how it went, but I knew this was the end for us; it was time to move on. Hef did not realize that letting Emma go that morning would start a domino effect and cost him two more Girlfriends. In recent interviews, Hef said he chose to downsize his group of Girlfriends. But that was not the case entirely; I had made my own decision to leave.

It was all happening so fast. And it could not have happened at a worse time. On Monday, he asked Emma to leave. Tuesday was awkward in the house, so I spent all day running errands. Wednesday was a club night, and I knew it might be the last time I ever went out with Hef. Thursday I had to pack because Friday morning I was flying out to Toronto for one of my best friends’ weddings. I did not know what would happen when I returned.

I was actually looking forward to going out that Wednesday night. I wanted to show Hef that even though I was going to leave soon, I still cared about him. Inside I knew that this might be the last time, or one of the last few, so I wanted us to have a great time. I was also hoping that now that Holly and Bridget knew I would be leaving, we could all just let our guards down and have some fun. There wouldn’t be any more struggle. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

We all met downstairs as per usual. Emma was told she was not invited to come out, although she was still at the Mansion packing her stuff. When we got into the limo, Susan told me to sit beside Hef one last time, and I thought I would do it for old times’ sake. It was nice to sit beside him and chat with him, knowing that it would most likely never happen again. My reasons for sitting next to him were innocent. I didn’t even think about it; for me, all of that petty stuff was over. When we got to the club, we ordered our drinks and some of the girls got up to dance. Bridget sat there alone, looking miserable, and began crying. I asked another girl what was wrong with Bridget, and she told me that Bridget was crying because I sat beside Hef in the limo. Apparently Bridget claimed I did it on purpose to hurt her feelings. I was furious. I could not believe that this girl was taking something that I did for sentimental reasons and turning it around to make something ugly out of it. I felt sorry for her. I was
leaving
, I was no longer a threat to her, and she was still so insecure that she had to take that last opportunity to create problems. Normally I would have ignored her. However, I had nothing to lose at this point and could not resist the opportunity to be myself. I went up to her.

BOOK: Bunny Tales
8.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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