Drinking at the $t. Regis Hotel

A seat at this bar will set you back a month’s rent…

I keep getting these chirpy email messages from Bergdorf Goodman. They announce with preposterous hauteur, “The Dresses you Need for the Sunny Season,” or “How will you wear lace?” or “Oscar de la Renta knows Feminine Charm.” I have resisted these attempts to woo me into bogus want (who writes this stuff?), but Oscar has been dead for a while and I was concerned about the use of the present tense, so I clicked on the link.  I found that I could preorder “feminine charm” (a stiff, floral bedecked concoction) for $2,890.

I’ll be honest. I like to be in that little, rarified neck of the woods that includes: the St Regis, the tail end of the park, Bergdorf’s, The Palm Court and FAO Schwartz. I have had some incredibly fun times at King Cole’s Bar (the birth place of the Bloody Mary and arguably the most expensive neighborhood “pub” in the world).

There was the time all the art guys from Jacksonville were in New York and Kim and I took them to King Cole’s to see the Maxwell Parish mural and drink the equivalent of a year’s gallery profits in champagne, horning in on Mary J Blige’s birthday party. After that night the hotel staff thought we were high rolling, whales when we had actually blown our entire wad the first night…

The time I got Madonna’s hand-me-down and modeled it at the bar, flashing the sales slip – to a standing ovation (more champagne…). The material girl had returned a Costume National leather jack-coat off season (and what are you going to say to Madonna?) and I got it for 90% off!

The time Lisa befuddled the bartender at breakfast by asking for a Mimosa without the orange juice (because she didn’t want the extra calories…).

And the time the money dude from Australia (with a corporate apartment just around the corner) bought Lauren and her friend and me, BOTTLES of champagne all night. When he went to the bathroom and took off his wedding ring the girls were all, “Oh my God, Mom – he is such a creep – he took off his wedding ring,” and I didn’t want to tell them that although he had misread the situation, I couldn’t fault him (being a money guy) for expecting a return on his substantial investment…

Would I like to go back? Sure. But the King Cole’s Bar would not be the same without being at the very least tipsy… I’d be adding up the bill in my head, wondering how they could charge $20 for a glass of gassy water, aware that I was the only one who cared about those things…

The good news, I suppose, is that these days I am an inexpensive date. Never a cheap date…