7:15 P.M. New Year’s Eve
Joanne arrived at my door dripping in Chanel eating a mozzarella panini.
“You look like an ad for the Food Channel.”
“I’m afraid I’m gonna get hungry. I actually bought one for you too. I’m sorry to tell you, this is it.”
“It’s okay…it’s the thought that counts.”
“I don’t like this budget business. I would have rather stayed home with chips and dip.”
“I hear ya.”
To recap, our pal Camille told us to eat at home so we wouldn’t eat too much out since none of us have any money. I had leftover ziti hoping it would do the trick, but Joanne though eating like a sailor, still had concerns.
When we got to The Mark naturally Camille was late. Normally we’d go to the bar but it wasn’t in our budget so instead we lolled in the lobby.
“We must look like hookers,” said Joanne.
“We do not. High priced call girls maybe.” On cue Camille swept in like Anna Wintour her Prada cape swinging in her wake.
“Sorry I’m late. Had hose issues…black, taupe, nude…couldn’t make up my mind.” I was somewhat irritated that we could have been propositioned due to pantyhose.
The Mark on New Year’s Eve has three sittings, something Camille forgot about. It’s not your normal night. When the little hostess told her we’d have to wait on standby Camille took her aside for a brief chat. Next thing you know we were led in like royalty.
“What did you say that changed her mind.”
“That I was an agent at William Morris and would see her bright and early Monday morning.”
“You wanna table don’t you?”
“And of course being all of twenty and stupid she believed you. We’ll never be able to come here again.”
“Oh please. The hostess turnover is like a revolving door. By the time we come again Angelina will be long gone.”
Suddenly I was sweating and I don’t sweat. Joanne, who looked like she was about to faint, asked me if she could sneak off for a slice of pizza.
“You just had two panini…how hungry could you be?”
“Here, chew some gum.”
We were seated ringside watching the first tier of celebrants eat and drink champagne like urchins with our noses pressed against a bakery window. When our waiter brought the wine list Camille ordered three glasses of the cheapest that wasn’t so cheap.
“Sip slowly ladies, cause this is it.”
“Camille, with all due respect, why are we even here? What’s the point?”
“It’s New Year’s Eve, that’s the point..we need to be out to bless the old and nod to the new.”
“That was beautiful Camille, really,” said Joanne in tears.
“What are you crying about?”
“I always cry when I’m hungry.”
So without dragging this out, we sipped our wine and ate appetizers rather than entrees because we all wanted the crispy sushi…a favorite of ours. Since we saved not ordering a main course, we each had sorbet with cookies having dessert after all. I felt like an Amish woman at a good hotel.
The Mark, instead of a bread basket, has a bread man who waltzes around doling out rolls upon request so he and Joanne got pretty friendly. At one point I thought he was going to sit down.
An entertainment lawyer I know bought us a round of drinks so that perked us up. All and all it wasn’t such a bad night, and upon leaving we went to 3 Guys and ate.
Scrambled eggs with toast and home fries never tasted so good.
Bless the old…nod to the new.