Notes From The Carlyle – September, 2015

k7905334  So here I sit on a mission, at least that’s my excuse for being here.  My friend Alex is working on a cover for my collection of Carlyle pieces I hope to assemble into a book.  He wants an authentic cocktail napkin to photograph.  It’s good to be working on something whether it actually comes to fruition or not.

That said.

I was supposed to meet my friend Jacques here, but he unexpectedly left town.  A pity, since I hadn’t seen him in so long and was looking forward to a catch-up conversation and a handsome man to stare at across the table.  Sometimes all a girl needs is a little eye-candy and a chat to hoist her spirits.  Jacques, who could rent himself out being so easy on the eye, looks great even in his casual work clothes…khakis, soft, crisp button-downs, a blazer never buttoned.  He’s J. Crew with a shot of Brooks Brothers thrown in, to remind you where he comes from.

Bemelmans is pretty empty except for a couple of chic men having a deep discussion practically on top of one another.  I can’t help but to admire their suits, one beige the other a light gray.  They clearly haven’t switched over their closets as yet still in late summer mode.  Poloesque with a shot of Tom Ford tossed in.  Now that’s a look worth staring at along with dueling martinis, their olives glistening in the overhead light.

As I sip my Merlot, a well-kept woman in her forties glides in the side door with a diamond the size of a searchlight.  She looks around sharply combing the room not finding what she seeks.  But then, an imposing looking man walks in from the Madison Avenue entrance lingering just long enough to take all of her in.  It could have been a French deodorant commercial as they approached one another like choreographed deer.  He took her hands in his, kissing her on both cheeks…hmm…maybe they are French, but then again my exterminator is from the Bronx and greets me the same way, so who knows.

Let’s write a screenplay, shall we?  He just got off a plane rushing to her side.  She has already secured a room she’ll slip away to in an hour or so, after they have a drink concealed on a corner banquette, their legs commingling beneath it.

You know at least one of them is married since it’s all too Louis Malle for it to be remotely legitimate, and lets face it, legitimacy is just not nearly as exciting.

The barmaid brings them what looks like shots of scotch over ice in heavy beaded glasses.  I can easily see bright red nails encircling hers waiting politely for him to raise his.  Oh, to be that hot for someone is like a resurrection of ones vital signs.  He kisses her hair the shade of wheat that keeps falling over her face she coyly buries in the crook of his shoulder oh so broad.  OOH…previews of coming attractions, and just like in our screenplay, she collects her things after a long parting gaze, and takes leave.

He sits, checks his phone, calls for the bill he pays in cash then embarks from the opposite door.  Guaranteed, all he did was circle to the elevator the other way right passed JFK’s picture who would more than approve, as if he were going to his own room, and I suppose he is, where the wheat awaits.

FINI

SB

 

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About Susannah Bianchi

I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves. My eBooks, A New York Diary, Model Behavior: Friends For Life and Notes From A Working Cat can be found on Amazon.com. Thanks.
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26 Responses to Notes From The Carlyle – September, 2015

  1. micklively says:

    You’d think he could just text her his room number and cut to the chase. That’s not near so entertaining for your book though.

    Like

  2. Forgive me but your comment makes little sense to me. What makes you think he didn’t know the room number? My point…he was trying to be discreet.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. That’s a book I hope comes to pass. Perhaps your exterminator speaks the French, oui? With a Bronx accent, no?

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  4. skinnyuz2b says:

    I love your talent for observation, Susannah. Obviously it’s what makes for a good writer, as you most certainly are.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Good morning Skinny…drivel…my new word. Considering what’s going on in my life right now…the various losses. If I couldn’t write regardless how it shows up, I don’t know what I would do. It’s such an outlet. I appreciate that you read me most mornings.

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  5. Beverly Giangiacomo says:

    I googled pics of the Carlyle Hotel Bar and I sincerely believe that you should be front and center in one of those pictures! One day I am coming back to New York and going there myself…of course I am not a writer but I will be able to remember the oh so many stories you have shared with us from that site…perhaps this should be the special occasion for us all to meet there….the kickoff of your book…now get it finished girl…this will be a blast!

    Liked by 1 person

    • I’m glad you enjoy these snippets I pen. Really makes me smile. It’s such a lovely place, timeless…welcoming like it’s waiting for you at the door. I always appreciate your comments. Thanks Beverly.

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  6. Ah, but you give us fantasies or remembrances. There was a day when someone looked at me like that. Sigh!

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Rubenstein, Hal says:

    Great story today !

    Hal

    Liked by 1 person

  8. MJ says:

    “…dueling martinis, their olives glistening in the overhead light.” “…scotch over ice in heavy beaded glasses…bright red nails encircling hers…” What gorgeous, evocative imagery!
    And the humor…”He took her hands in his, kissing her on both cheeks…” with the punch about your exterminator from the Bronx greeting you the same way—so funny!
    Your “Curiosities” post—a great piece—has been haunting me all week. It inspired me to read more about Topsy—then Mary, another abused circus elephant, and I could’ve used a HERD of pink ones as a chaser! Seriously, though, a week of gems. Bravo, Susannah!

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    • Thanks MJ. I’m almost sorry you read more about Mary and Topsy. It’s such a sad,state of affairs. Thank you for all your encouragement.

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    • Here rereading comments and yours jumps from the page. Animal abuse, then…now…so distressing. Ric Burns, Ken’s brother, did a film on Coney Island and there’s a whole piece on Topsy. It’s a great film, except for that. Heartbreaking. Anything on Luna Park fascinates me, like if a new book comes out. But I always hesitate because I know Topsy will be in it her story always told. We are cruel beings, we are.

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  9. Patricia says:

    Your exterminator greets you with a kiss on both cheeks?! Where did you find him? If our exterinator got close enough to kiss me I would want to be exterminated.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. You write like poetry, my dear. I think you should write that screenplay too, while you’re at it.

    Liked by 1 person

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