Valley of the Go-Go’s … Ooh, ooh, Witchay Woman

133

 

 

Wednesday, September 10th, 1986, 4:04 P.M.

 

 

Charlotte pulled up in front of one of the new condominium buildings on Franklin Avenue and steered her car into one of the parking spaces. She felt uneasy and unsure of what she was about to do as she put the gearshift into park. The reason she was about to consult Suffy on this matter was because she didn’t want to draw attention to her herself by going outside of the box and cause a bunch of celebrity-watchers to start asking questions. At the moment, this seemed like the safest thing to do.

Charlotte found the appropriate address on the panel and pressed the button. After several seconds, the intercom responded.

“Hello?” asked the voice.

“Hey, Suffy, it’s Charlotte.. I’m here.”

“Oh, hey, Charlotte. Come on up,” responded Suffy, as she pressed the buzzer for Charlotte to enter.

Charlotte took the stairs up to the second floor and started walking down the corridor. Before she got to the door, Suffy stepped out into the hallway and greeted her. Charlotte could feel the chills go up her spine as Suffy spread her arms outward in a seductive, necromancer kind of way.

“Hello, Charlotte… Welcome to my coven,” said Suffy.

“Knock it off, Suff… I’m here to talk about business,” explained Charlotte.

“Whatevah,” said Suffy.

Although many women would feel depressed about having a voice that sounded like a cross between Fran Drescher and Suzanne Pleshette, Suffy relished in her physical wonderment. Along with that, her New York accent was thick and juicy.

“So what do I owe this pleashuh?” she asked.

“I need you to do me a favor,” said Charlotte. “I need you to find me a hypnotist.”

“A hypnotist? That’s not what I do,” Suffy responded.

“What do you mean, that’s not what you do? Aren’t you a witch or some shit?” asked Charlotte.

“Yeah, I’m a witch… But we don’t deal with hypnosis. That’s for the material world,” explained Suffy.

“Oh, give me a break,” Charlotte interceded. “The material world… What’re you, Madonna?”

“Charlotte… Don’t come ovah to my house and treat me like some kind of a child… I’m not one of your business patsies… I’ll whip your scrawny ass into oblivion… Can’t you see how much biggah I am than you?”

Charlotte conceded that Suffy was indeed much bigger than her and was not about to get into a physical confrontation with someone from the east coast. Charlotte was not about to get into a physical confrontation with someone from any coast. She didn’t have to; Remember, her dad was in television.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” Charlotte apologized. “I didn’t mean to insult your.. occupation.”

“So.. how come Jane doesn’t cawl me anymoah?” Suffy inquired. “What? Is she too busy?”

“I don’t know why Jane doesn’t “cawl” you anymore,” answered Charlotte, clearly making fun of Suffy’s accent.

“I know you’ve always been jealous of my relationship with Jane,” posited Suffy. “Do you want her all for yourself?”

“Oh, God, don’t make me puke!” relented Charlotte. “I don’t wanna hear about you and Jane making a pretzel with each other… I’m not into that.”

“Yeah… I know that about you,” said Suffy in a suspicious manner. “I also know that you’re not very supportive of the community that makes up a good portion of your fan base… You mind explaining that to me?”

As a corporate mogul, Charlotte didn’t have to put up with any of this inquisitive nonsense—

“Are you deliberatively trying to piss me off?” she demanded. “You realize that I don’t have to put up with any of your accusations, don’t you?”

Suffy had heard enough.

“I can’t help you, Charlotte… I don’t know anything about hypnotists.”

Charlotte was somewhat defeated, but not completely. She looked around and noticed Suffy’s tarot cards lying on the living room coffee table.

“Suffy… tell me… what exactly can you do with these cards of yours?” she asked.

“I can tell you your futchah,” she claimed.

“Suffy… if you can tell me my future… I can make you a millionaire in about two seconds,” Charlotte explained.

“I already know that… You think I’m dumb? … I have a brokah.”

“So, tell me my future, Suff… Let’s get these cards rolling,” suggested Charlotte.

“I can’t tell you your futchah, Charlotte… Not in the way you want me to,” said Suffy in a serious, educated sort of way. As she lit up a cigarette, she knew exactly what Charlotte was referring to. She was no longer acting like a fortuneteller. She was acting like Suffy German: the normal chick from New York.

“So what do they do?” asked Charlotte.

“They’re not designed to tell you your futchah, per say… They’re designed to guide you in a healthy, spiritual kind of way,” explained Suffy.

“So, in other words, you’re just a character you’ve created… Like everyone else here in Hollywood… You’re just a carnival side-show.”

“You know, I can’t believe what an unbelievable bitch you’ve turned into, Charlotte… I can’t believe what you’ve become…When I first met you, you were actually nice,” lamented Suffy.

“Yeah, yeah, are you gonna help me or not?” Charlotte asked.

“What’s in it fah me? Are you gonna buy me a house?” asked Suffy.

“No, I’m not gonna buy you a house!!” retorted Charlotte. “Are you out of your fucking mind?!  Just for doing me a favor?!  I thought Jane already bought you this condo… Isn’t that enough?”

“She can affowd it… So can you… I know how rich you ah,” claimed Suffy.

Charlotte had now come to the conclusion that Suffy was a bit more of a negotiator than she bargained for.

“You know, Suff… What if I told you.. I could get you a big part in a movie? … Would that change your mind?”

Suffy was now incrementally intrigued.

“Can you do that?” she asked.

“Of course,” Charlotte proclaimed. “You know my connections.”

Suffy’s demeanor immediately changed into a person suffused with gratitude.

“Charlotte, if you could do that fah me, I would be eternally grateful… You know I’ve always wanted to be an actress,” poured Suffy.

In actuality, Charlotte was now way out of her realm. She had some connections in television, sure, but asking Steven Spielberg to give Suffy a significant part in one of his movies was completely out of the question, no matter how much Mr. Spielberg liked the Go-Go’s music.

“So.. you think you might be able to find that hypnotist for me?” asked Charlotte.

“I know a few,” admitted Suffy.

“I thought you might,” said Charlotte with a wily smile on her face.