(Credit: Julian Wells)
If you're a guy and you frequent the Room on Cahuenga, you've certainly encountered Devine and heard his mantra. He's the towering men's room attendant who gets you to wash your hands by referring to the liquid as “player soap.” In fact, everything with this Queens, New York, transplant revolves around being a player.
What brought you to California?
I got into a motorcycle accident in 2004 and spent about eight months in recovery. My cousin out in San Jose had a little business going, and he told me to come out and help him. I went out there and business was good, but he didn't have, you know, a business strategy. I brought the player status in.
You're always talking about players…
To me a player is not the guy that's a pimp out in the streets hustling. Like, George Bush is a player. How else could he convince Florida to let him win? He had to be a cold-blooded player.
What exactly is “player soap”?
I make it so when you leave, you could pick up every girl in the room. [Editor's note: Devine does not actually make this soap.] The bathroom is like a fantasy land. How many people would love to have a man in their home to be like, “Hey, man, you missed a spot when you were shaving. Let me get that for you”? Or [someone to] make sure their hands were clean and they got cologne on.
Do people always pay-to-pee—um, we mean tip?
If you have integrity as a man, and compassion for my service as a man, then you're going to tip me.
Do you player-hate when people don't pay up?
I might put you on Front Street occasionally. You've got guys that come in making six figures, actors and celebrities coming in, and they get all Big Willy on you. Like they don't have to tip because of whatever. It's like, “You make more money than anyone I know, and you can't leave a dollar?” What does that say about what kind of person you are?
What about someone who might not have extra money?
On the other hand, you've got a guy who comes in and he's just out to try and meet some girls. He comes out with, like, $13 in his pocket, enough to buy a drink and tip the bartender. That man—I'll give him soap, a candy bar, cigarettes, blunts, cologne, whatever it takes, and he don't have to give me one red cent.
