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My Fantasy With Jane Fonda


dinning room at the Dresden in Hollywood

Encountering celebrities and influential people was not an everyday occurrence at the Dresden, however, it did happen on almost a weekly basis. Typically, with more important people showing up there was a more involved process of making reservations in the dinning room. The Dresden has been a Los Angeles landmark since the mid-fifties and has not only weathered the time, it has become a fixture of cultish Los Angeles landmarks. An important vestige of retro Hollywood. In the case of Jane, or as I call her - Ms. Fonda - I received a phone call, early in the night, prior to getting busy, the call was on behalf of a famous Hollywood person, and, that famous Hollywood person was interested in booking a corner table for dinner. A table where she would not be noticed. The Dresden is noted as one of the great Tinseltown restaurants to be seen at, so by design there is no table that hides people away from being seen. It’s set up so that everyone is in the room together and can be seen in fantastic Hollywood fashion. There are some beautiful wooden spires that cause a bit of visual disruption to the openness of the room, however, there is no “hide away” seating.


After ten or fifteen minutes of assuring the caller that every guest in the dinning room experiences what feels like an intimate dinning experience. I asked who it was that I was holding a special table for. She, the caller, responded by letting me know it was Jane Fonda. She wanted to reserve table for two. Jane was to show up after attending a concert at the Greek Theater with her date. A fellow named Lou Adler.

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Ms. Fonda showed up 9:30ish the following night. Slightly before schedule. Apparently, she and her companion left the show at the Greek prior to its conclusion – by the way, it was Bonnie Raitt performance that night. I happened to be next to the antiquated cash register, which, is a lovely well aged cash machine, as was Ms. Fonda, in my opinion, lovely, well aged, and, as delightful as I had expected. I saw her enter through the back door and she seemed a bit hesitant as she approached me. That hesitancy somehow added a luster to her natural born elegance. Once I looked at her she faltered, hovering back at a constant eight feet away from me. I was slightly confused by her reluctant behavior. I pondered her uncertainty to step up and assert herself with me. After all, I’ve known her for ever. Or rather I’ve seen her forever. Perhaps my entitled sense of familiarity sparked a vibe that triggered caution, giving her good reason to waver.


As she stammered a bit with her words, which surprised me, I assured her that I knew who she was – “and I have saved the most fantastic table for you.” As she timidly approached my station I noticed she was alone. I turned with her bringing her past the long reaching wooden spires of the table across from the cash register, gently escorting her to the center of the lush room as I pondered her curious demeanor. I suggested that the lovely table that I planned to sit her and her guest at was the best and should more than satisfy the occasion. The Dresden Room is an inspiring example of a Mid-Century dinning room with beautiful wood spires vaulting up to fourteen foot ceilings staged with engraved white leather booths and golden-orange original wall paper which in greater light would display a moderate lack of cleaning. Me and Jane Fonda standing in the center of this dazzling retro display, an unusual night for the Dresden since there was no one else in the place. Together alone, Me and Jane Fonda. My God! A serious love of my attraction to the craft of acting breathing and blinking and being, standing right in front of my eyes. One of the most splendid film actors - ever. Her warmth and radiance, and elegance, yes, I perhaps am redundant in my praise for Ms. Fonda, regardless, I’ve been fascinated by her and her work throughout the years. She has made an impression. While I finalized my extravagant spiel regarding her seating arrangements, I slowed down and relaxed enough to actually look at her wonderful face. She looked back at mine. I noticed her head tilted a bit to the side, like some kind of warm confusion had minced into her thinking. And I thought, “Oh my god. I think Jane Fonda is somehow intrigued with me!” Next, my thought swung immediately in the opposite direction and I was suddenly sure that she was merely curious as to why I was so strange yet harmless at the same time. I thought she was simply amused with me. It was a bit awkward. She seemed tolerant to me out of politeness. In that moment I noticed her true age. That she was old compared to the young actress who I had mostly paid attention to, still, I thought - “wow, she got old, but, she’s still stunning even at that age.” I noticed Jane looked deeper into my eyes and a generous kindness seemed to glow from within her. I suggested to myself, somehow, that must have meant - if we were both even just twenty years younger something heavy and delightful and intimate would have happened between us. So I thought that, but, I decided to not think that because it was probably wrong in a rather dumb assumptive way. That’s the moment I realized she was the same height as me. With her long, elegant, frame. That we were looking exactly eyeball to eyeball at each other (I didn’t dare look away, down to her feet to detect if she was wearing heels. I didn’t want to miss anything that crossed her face). Without speaking. Just looking at each other. A long suspended moment. Hey, I know Janie’s had at least ten-thousand twelve and a half men stumble and gaze at her. Come on we’re talking about Barberalla, and Cat Ballou, Corie Bratter, Bree Daniel, along with workout Jane! Our stand off in the Dresden Room was klutzy yet energetic. I was being overtly polite, which, I admit, is sometimes weird to others. I also considered, perhaps, I was overthinking. Then, yet again, my thinking reversed, as I considered that Ms. Fonda was so use to men coming on to her that perhaps the puzzling look on her face was simply somehow saying – “Wow, I can’t believe this younger fellow is not actually hitting on me,”


In came Lou Adler. Jane’s date for the night. He was being helped in by an assistant. He used a walker and appeared to have an affliction that caused him to be unsteady. Jane looked back over to him as he slowly worked his way towards us. Next, it came to me that the strangeness of the previous moment with Jane was that I had simply mis-read her politeness while she stood waiting on her date. That her look, or, the face I’d been reading, was merely reflection of the tedium for her waiting on someone while she stood before me in that beautiful Mid-Century room.


“Over here Lou.” She spoke to him in soft tone. “The Maitre d’ has us set up at this table over here.” Jane and I didn’t move. We just waited for Mr. Adler. He was having difficulty getting to us, yet I could see he was not about to relinquish control. His assistant doted a bit, Mr. Adler would have none of it, he was determined to get to the table on his own. I looked back at Jane. I wouldn’t say she was embarrassed, yet, I almost confused the look on her face as such. I realized she was patiently waiting, and, although unspoken, she also checked to see if I was okay with the wait. Which, somehow made me like her more. I was tolerant to it all. I smiled at Jane while she countered with her own smile, and then we waited. I felt like she was worried that I was being inconvenienced. I was worried that she would never remember me. That part was a bit awkward as well. The waiting that is. Eventually, Mr. Adler approached the table. Just prior to Mr. Adler taking his seat I begged pause. I indicated they should both take care as I pulled the table away from it’s rounded booth in a grandiose flourish allowing for Mr. Adler to comfortably sit in to his side of the booth. Ms. Fonda was very please with this gesture. She expressed her gratitude in a hush, “That’s really nice.” I slid the table back in front of Mr. Adler. He thanked me and as Ms. Fonda stepped over to sit on the other side. I gave the table a quick twist giving her extra room to cozily seat herself as well. Once Jane was in I twisted the table back to its original position and both were snugly in place. Mr. Adler mentioned he never experienced anyone move a table like that. I smiled and straightened the white tablecloth with both hands, then I stood up straight in front of them. I looked at Mr. Adler. He thanked me again. I looked at Ms. Fonda.


With a delicious sigh she asked, “Do you have a potato vodka?”


It was the coolest thing. The way she said it. Like delivering a classic movie line - “Do you have a potato vodka?’ F###ing brilliant. It felt like she was delightfully relieved, that she had found a sanctuary, yet, what seemed to co-mingle with her delivery packed within that line indicated that Jane was mostly annoyed with everything that had led up to that moment on that day. Still, I could feel the love of it all. An appreciation on her part. And that she really wanted a drink. It was a mixed and complex performance on her part. Exactly what you would expect from a great actor, yet, it was cool mostly because it felt like she was okay sharing a bit of herself with me. Then she laughed a lovely warm soft laugh.


We did have a potato vodka. Our server promptly brought her that drink. Jane looked relieved. There was no reason for me to return to the table that night, however, I did deliberately walk by three or four times as Jane and Lou ate just so I could say to myself - “Wow, I can’t believe that’s really Jane Fonda sitting right there. Wow.”


I think it’s okay to put people on a pedestal. If it seems like they’ve earned it. Fantasy, maybe. Ms. Fonda is a great actor (or actress if you prefer) who has managed appearances in a good many relevant films. I love her for all her amazing performances. I know I don’t really know her. I’m certain she doesn’t know me. I know I’m certain she won’t remember who I am. I don’t expect her to. Too bad though.


(via John Reneaud's substack: https://substack.com/@somedudefromdetroit


-John Reneaud

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