They’d be hard to miss anywhere. Nathan, 27, is hairless, a victim of some follicular disorder; Ginger, 19, is the long, leggy blond by the pool. They met in Quebec three years ago, and come from opposite ends of Canada: Nathan from a logging community on Vancouver Island, Ginger from a fishing village in Newfoundland. "For fun, we’d chip ice chips off the icebergs and sell it to people for their drinks," says Ginger, opening a Zima. "It tastes so good, but it would freak our parents out, because if the icebergs melt too much they tip over and swamp you. That was the biggest thing to do up there — iceberg tipping." They arrived in Hollywood two days ago, having taken a bus from New York. "Last year I was here, I stayed four months, trying to start some music and stuff," says Nathan. "I started a band called the Children of the New Millennium. It’s just me. I have like a white robe that I wear. I wanted to have an image, because groups have to have an image to sell their stuff." He has a portfolio full of pictures of himself in the robe, his bald head superimposed with a corona of fire, a clay alien he sculpted hanging around his neck. "It’s sort of like a cult thing. It’s all about image, you know? That’s why I shaved my head. Now it’s stopped growing, and the pores have closed." "Feel his arm. It’s so smooth," says Ginger. "I tell people I got picked up by aliens, and when they brought me back I didn’t have hair," he says. "It’s good for the look, but it doesn’t have any other significance. I’m not religious or anything." "Except for the Raëlian Movement," says Ginger. "Oh, yeah, it’s this cult that believes aliens came down and created humans. I heard about it because I do market research and stuff in Montreal." "I believe it," says Ginger. "I believe we came from aliens. I do. I don’t believe in God and stuff. It cracks me up that with all the science and technology, people still believe there’s some guy sitting in the clouds up there." "It’s easier to believe in aliens," says Nathan. "I saw a billboard in Toronto with a big picture of an alien, saying ‘The Face of God.’ We went to a convention and bought the books. They believe in sensual meditation, that you and a partner should achieve orgasm during meditation. They’re centered in France, and their leader is Raël." Nathan brings out one of Raël’s books, The Final Message. The back-cover blurb explains that Raël used to be a race-car driver until he was abducted and sent back to Earth to spread the word. "I believe in the concept, but not all their stuff," says Nathan, "like giving 5 percent of all your earnings to them. To hell with that." "I’ve got some modeling job offers already," says Ginger, who, after a little prodding, says she usually works as a stripper. "I was over at Crazy Girls last night. I was totally blown away, because in Montreal you can pick any club and just walk in. Here, you have to wait. The guy from next door [the Seventh Veil] said he’d hire me, but I didn’t like that place, it’s kind of slimy, they basically want you to put a twat in their face — sorry to put it like that. But Crazy Girls is really classy. They were doing a photo shoot there last night, and they said I could get a Monday or a Tuesday, I just had to get some shorts. Here, you’re not allowed just to wear a g-string, you gotta have shorts if there’s lap-dancing. There’s only all-nude if there’s no booze. I want a place with booze, because they get a bit more in the party spirit. "I started dancing when I was still in school, though my family never knew it. My God, I think my father’d shoot himself. Really, I do. There’s just different levels of thinking in Newfoundland. It’s my life, you know, they don’t need to know about it. We’re happy here." "Oh, totally happy," says Nathan, who, in fact, does look totally happy, his lashless eyes beaming beneath the bandanna he ties around his head. "Except she won’t let me watch her dance." "It doesn’t bother me," Ginger says, though for the first time she seems uncomfortable with the subject. "It’d just be weird. I’ve never had anyone that I know see me in a club. It’s like I have another personality when I’m dancing. It’s like acting. This is my life, and that’s my other life, so I try not to cross them over." Nathan no longer seems to be listening as he flips through his book. "You know where I got the idea for the robe? From these Jews that were evicted from here last year. They were really trippy. But I bought a white robe like theirs. They kind of inspired me."