The everyday life of Sasha Grey

I’m at a chic West Hollywood cafe, where the tables are evenly spaced and the dimly lit room reverberates with chatter. A waiter holds up a chalkboard with the day’s specials. Right on time, the maître d’ brings over a brunette and presents her to me as if she were a head of state.

“Hi, I’m Sasha,” she says, holding in her hand an iPhone wrapped in a blue rubber case that stands out against her gloomy outfit: a black, hooded wool coat (probably vintage) over a silky black dress that’s cut above the knees and falls elegantly on her 5-foot-6 frame.

I’m surprised she’s on time, 2:30 p.m. sharp.

Grey, who is inarguably most famous for having been one of the country’s biggest adult film stars, is big on punctuality.

“Nobody has any respect for tradition,” she says, describing how everyone in LA is fashionably late. “I’ve hosted dinners where people were two hours late and I kindly told them to turn their cars around.”

She coughs, sniffles, then takes out a tissue and wipes her nose. Sasha Grey, it would seem, has cold-like symptoms.

Grey may have a cold, but there’s something burning inside her that isn’t typical of a celebrity. Over the last few years, she’s quietly been taking on her next form, be it novelist, EDM deejay, Formula 1 racer or action star—no matter what it is, it’s more than “ex-porn star.”

But, first, back to the beginning.

Read the rest of this story at LA Weekly.