Small world after all

Nothing could have prepared me for this.

By Tracy Quan

Jan 13, 2000 | Saturday, November 6

Barry Horowitz, installed in the room next to ours, says the real purpose of his trip to San Francisco was to meet Anabel. "Aside from being trashy enough to attract my interest, Anabel's a victim of injustice," he told me. "A scapegoat."

Over breakfast, Barry scolded Jasmine for deriding his growing interest in Anabel-the-cause: "You've never had a social conscience. In your quasi-jungle, it's every girl for herself. But," he turned to me, "Nancy has do-gooder potential. A lingerie liberal at heart. So, what made you decide to save the world? And what does your darling boyfriend think of all this?"

"Are you kidding?" I said. "Matt thinks I'm on a family visit -- the only way he can reach me is on the cell phone."

"It wasn't Nancy's idea to come out here," Jasmine chimed in. "Roxana's such an incompetent fool, she allowed Allison to invite April to the conference! No offense, Nancy, but it's a sad day when someone like you has to rescue Roxana from her own mistakes." Looking at Barry, she added, "Nancy's idea of a worthy cause is a Gucci sale. A Bay Area girl she's not."

She may be right -- I am a fish out of water here. At last night's get-together, I discovered that the green-haired girl with a face full of metal is a peep-show dancer at a place called the Lusty Lady -- and a Ph.D. candidate at Berkeley. When Cozy Von Booty (as she calls herself) introduced me to her "community of women" -- five like-minded, scantily attired peep-show dancers wearing buttons that said "No Justice, No Piece" -- I had the urge to flee. Being at this conference is like being trapped in the East Village without a cab in sight.

Barry was impressed by the problems April has managed to create for Allison, Roxana and the elusive Anabel. "Fools can be so ingenious!" he remarked. "Tell me more about Lucia, our lady of the truck stops! Is she good-looking?"

"In a ... zaftig way," I said, recalling my brief meeting with the buxom, driven Lucia. "She appears on all the Brazilian talk shows, and she agreed to help April by writing a poignant political introduction to her sleazy 'memoir.' April's got a book deal and the idea is that April provides the story while Lucia gives her political credibility. Lucia gets money from the World Health Organization to run a drop-in center for streetwalkers in Rio -- they give out condoms and free food. But she loves the limelight."

Jasmine shoved a laser-printed flyer in our direction. Color head shots of April and Lucia were featured side by side -- and their lurid sob stories neatly summarized to make room for a cell phone number in large type. "Rights Alert! Producers, directors, agents and talent scouts -- a real-life story you won't want to miss." A Web-site address followed.

"This is great stuff!" Barry cackled. "Did I predict that April would out-bimbo Anthea Walgreen?" he reminded me. "I'll bet Anthea has no idea what her greedy little client is doing. This makes Anabel look like Mother Theresa -- but where did she disappear to?"

"Roxana finally tracked her down. Anabel's afraid of the scene here -- turns out, she didn't really want to be the keynote speaker. And she's terrified of April. Roxy spoke to her late last night," I told Barry, "and I'll be meeting her later. So you might get your day on Court TV, after all. Or even Larry King."

"Larry King," he nodded with approval. "You see, the hooker's cause needs legitimacy. A delicate blend of the sensational and the serious. That's what April and Lucia have going for them."

At this moment, Allison and Roxana sailed by -- Roxy in her red TV wig, Allison with freshly blown locks streaming down her shoulders. "Room 603 at 4 p.m.," Roxana told me, giving Barry a suspicious glance. "It's a closed session. I have a TV interview at noon, then I have to pick up Anabel."

"Wait," I said, "This is Barry Horowitz. He flew out here to help Anabel."

Roxana and Allison stopped and gave Barry a second look. "Didn't you represent ..." Roxana narrowed her eyes. "The A-Train Bomber?"

Next Page: "Is that you, Nancy?"

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