Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Extra, Extra....Read All About It!
The Four Seasons Hotel in Manhattan is known for a lot of things. Great service, fabulous views, amazing martinis, high end clientele, and high class hookers. As a woman, one must be very careful when having a drink at the bar - to not wear anything that might indicate that you are available on an hourly rate...unless, of course - you are. I figured that after our latest Junior League meeting, my new prim young friends, Annie and Marina, would be up for sipping a $20 cocktails with me as slowly as humanly possible - and they were. Clearly, we were all wrapped in enough clothing to ward off possible Johns....and while I was scanning the room - I spotted my target. One of the big shot columnists from the New York Post. I had literally been dying to be profiled in the Post for my business and I took this as my opportunity. Sandwiched between two sweet, 20-something year old blondes....we made our move toward his table and scored an invite for a drink. Maybe this whole Junior League thing was going to work out after all?
Marina and Annie were perfect wing-women...keeping Newsie's friends busy - while I pitched my business to one slightly tipsy writer. He definitely seemed interested (in what exactly -remained to be seen), so a second and third round of drinks were ordered. Marina cut out early, as did Newsie's two friends - but Annie stayed in place, right next to me. Thank God. Her recent drinking years at college obviously served her well and she seemed to be showing no signs of needing to stop drinking any time soon. My cat was near the bag, but hardly in it at this point. Newsie suggested that we change venue's and head down to Rose Bar at the Gramercy Park Hotel...which I felt obliged to agree to and as we were heading out - a man grabbed my arm.
"Who are you?" he asked, somewhat agressively. He was handsome, but sporting a wedding band and was sitting with a bunch of guys who were all clearly from out of town. I thought he was quite rude, so I shrugged and tried to pull away without answering - but he didn't let go. Newsie and Annie appeared right behind me - laughing at this crazy guy....and Newsie looked down at him and said "Her name is Britt and she is my new star." Oh my God. Best night ever. Bye, bye, lunatic.
At the Rose Bar, the three of us did get progressively drunk - and finally I ended up in someones chauffeured car....Annie still by my side - heading to Bungalow 8 at 2 a.m. on a Tuesday night. Newsie had a hankering for grilled cheese sandwiches...and apparently, Bungalow 8 serves them. Who knew?
An hour later - we have all been terribly over-served and I can't remember how many grilled cheese sandwiches I had scarfed down, but I am quite sure that it was one too many. Newsie is explaining to Amy Sacco, the intimidatingly statuesque owner of Bungalow, how Annie and I are in the Junior League...and what good girls we are - which is hardly what we appeared to be at that exact moment in time. Amy called us out on it though and said that she would love to have us help her on Sunday morning with feeding underprivileged children at a pre-Thanksgiving dinner - since we are such good girls. Was she serious or was she making fun of us?
We said yes, in any case. Why not? We had pretty much eaten this woman out of her own nightclub with our voracious grilled cheese appetites, so it was the least we could do. Besides, Amy Sacco doesn't exactly seem like the type of person that one should say "no" to. She might not even call us. It was, after all, the middle of the night when this conversation took place. The only thing that I was hoping would be remembered was that Newsie had offered to make me a star.