Hanging with supermodels well worth the early start

                    

	Even the beautiful USC Song Girls couldn't hold a candle to Jessica White and Julie Henderson. Stephen Dunn/Getty Images

It's a clear night in Los Angeles, and the sweeping views of Hollywood from my window side seat at the famed Yamashiro, a mansion-turned-restaurant perched atop the Hollywood hills, should be grabbing my attention, but it doesn't stand a chance. Not with Jessica White and Julie Henderson sitting with me.  

As the two Sports Illustrated Swimsuit models dine on sushi rolls, crab cakes and miso soup at one of the most romantic locations in the city, I try to smooth talk the girls by bringing up one of the crudest subjects possible, asking them if they have ever heard of an infamous obscene gesture that is commonly known on college campuses. I guess you can say I have a way with the ladies.

They had no clue. So in one of the more uncomfortable dinner moments I've ever experienced, I begin to show them the hand sign and explain its functions. While they are at first taken aback by the concept, it isn't long before they try to flash the sign as well. 

Soon the dinner conversation is filled with enough inappropriate innuendo to make both high schoolers and Howard Stern listeners proud. I suppose it's the kind of tête-à-tête that might be expected from a group that's been up since 3 a.m.  

I began the day early, way too early. There aren't many things in life that can get me up before the sun rises, not even the required college biology class I had to drop twice because I never could get up in time, but the opportunity to be present for the first photo shoot for next year's Sports Illustrated Swimsuit issue, which hits the stands in February, is certainly one of them.  

I arrived at The Standard hotel in Downtown L.A. around 5 a.m., about two hours after the ladies have been getting ready for the shoot in their rooms. When I met up with Jessica and Julie in the hotel lobby, Jessica was still steaming about having her bronzer taken from her on her way back from Maracas due to the new airline regulations. I tried to ease her pain by telling her about the time my bronzer was apprehended on my way back from a shoot in Bora Bora, you know, back when I was a male model, but it is of little help.  

One would think that Los Angeles -- and even the famous rooftop pool at The Standard -- would be a perfect locale for a swimsuit shoot, but the ladies are in town for a shoot on the campus of USC with the Trojans Marching Band. Having graduated from USC two years ago and being the lone Trojan in the group of about a dozen photographers, assistants, make-up artists and editors, I lead the crew down from The Standard to campus, still somewhat surprised that there will be an SI Swimsuit shoot a few feet away from Chano's Drive Inn and the 901 Club as I drove down Figueroa Street.

Once we got to campus, it quickly became apparent that the overcast skies above Cromwell Field, USC's track & field stadium, wouldn't be clearing up anytime soon. So with band members lounging around on the track and the models patiently waiting on the steel bleachers, I suggested we get some breakfast. Now USC is not known for being in the greatest college town. In fact, I ranked it seventh in the Pac-10 last year. It's not that it isn't a great school, but students will be the first to tell you that there isn't much going on around campus once you walk off the ivy covered grounds. So with our options limited, we headed across the street to Denny's. Having spent many a late night sobering up on the Moons over my Hammy, there was a surreal feeling walking into the dingy establishment with a couple of supermodels by my side.  

There are probably a laundry list of reasons why hanging out with models is good way of passing the time (I highly recommend it if you have the means), but the one that popped into my mind while I was driving the girls to Denny's is that this was one of the few moments in my life where I could meet two drop-dead gorgeous women and leave whatever "game" I have at home. I mean for heaven's sake, these are supermodels and I'm, well, me. It's like a small-town junior college team getting ready for a road game at "The Horseshoe" against Ohio State. Sure you can try to bring your "A" game, but does it even matter?