Crowds Outside The Cafe Monmartre, The Piss Smelling Alley, 2007
I simply do not understand why club promoters feel it "cool" to make their patrons wait in alleys that have been used as hobo urinals all day long. As if any of the posuers who are waiting on line for their clubs, are "too important" to be seen on Hollywood Boulevard. PUH-LEEZE. One of the saddest days of my life was the day I saw Billy Wilder. A premier had just finished at Grauman's Chinese Theatre and the audience was being escorted to the after premier party. The Blossom Room? A Club On The Sunset Strip? Nope....A tent in the alley behind the Masonic Temple. They put the man who had Marilyn stand over the grate so her dress would blow up, the man who wrote Sunset Blvd....In a tent in an alley. Ohhhh...It pained me FOR him. To have watched it all slide so far in one lifetime! And in that alley, the too cool for brains, danced the night away their shoe leather scraping asphalt, the glamorous surroundings identical to the interior of a house being fumigated, smug in utter satisfaction that Hollywood had never been better.
Well it has been. And in New York, you get to go in the FRONT door, no matter who you are!