Cole Escola & Jeffrey Self
For once, the guests at a party weren’t just there for the nibbles and open bar. Everyone at Dixon Place for HOT! Fest’s kickoff bash HOT! Mess, whether they were involved in the fest or not, seemed genuinely excited about the chance to get a sneak peek of the upcoming shows. The chance to mill around the gallery space, swilling white sangria and chatting with the other oh-so-fabulous attendees was just a delightful bonus.
Justin Bond, in fierce sunglasses and a pillbox hat, breezed in just long enough to say hello and look at the Liz Liguouri photos hanging on the walls, then he left for work before I could ask about his upcoming album. I briefly chatted with boys at the bar until a woman and her dog started playing fetch behind us. Tossing the ball into the air, she reassured her pooch not to worry: “No one will catch your ball because they’re gay.”
“I think I just proved you wrong,” a pal of mine said as the ball landed in his lap. Ever leery of dogs, I took that opportunity to find Jeffrey Self and Cole Escola, better known as the VGL Boys, whose hysterical YouTube videos nabbed them both their own Logo network show and a slot in the HOT! Fest for Jeffrey and Cole, Make It Bigger.
“Our show was originally titled A Conversation About Annie Potts,” Jeffrey said. “But then we realized that the problem is, no one wants to have a conversation about Annie Potts.” Distracted by a cute guy walking past, he trailed off.
“He’s on the hunt for a boyfriend,” Cole stage whispered. Jeffrey turned back around. “I know why I don’t meet guys,” he said in a “Eureka!” voice. “It’s because I’m so belligerent when I’m drunk! There’s this clip of me on the red carpet at the NewNowNext Awards, and I’m just screaming into the camera, ‘We like high art, and the actresses who fucking get it!’”
Cole deadpanned, “I knew I was too drunk. That’s why I kept my mouth shut.”
Eventually, a festival worker took the tiny postage stamp-sized stage, and ordered everyone downstairs for the HOT! Mess preview. As I finished my glass of sangria, I noticed Jeffrey talking to the guy he’d checked out earlier. Their conversation, I decided, was probably not about Annie Potts.
