Girls, Let Me Be The First To Tell You--Do NOT--I Repeat, Do Not-- March Yourselves Into Demarchelier!!!!!!!!!!

                                        But before I get to that, darlings, let me inform you, I am barely 25 pages into Julia Phillips' bitchfest book about Hollywood, "You'll Never Eat Lunch In This Town Again," and already I have learned two very important things about when you are out in L.A.  So, if any of you girls are planning to go there in the near future, take note:

                                           1.  You have to have lunch at Ma Maison!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
                                            2. You have GOT to get your legs waxed by Charlotte, at Elizabeth Arden!!!

                                          Now, for Demarchelier.  For the twenty five or more years I have visited the tree at the Metropolitan, strolling along East 86th Street both to and  from, I have passed this charming, cozy looking little French bistro, done up in red.    Which, even from above, you can see looks pretty charming!  And I can't resist the color red, anyway!!!!!  What kind of queen would I be,  if I did????????????????

                                            All these years, I would pass the place, thinking, "I've got to try this, sometime," but never did.  Truthfully, I just did not feel like going by myself.  It looked like  somewhere fun to go with others, whenever one happens to be in the vicinity, which is usually when one is visiting the Metropolitan!!!!!!!!

                                              You would THINK!!!!!!!!  But this is another story, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!

                                               En route to the museum, before meeting Auntie Alvin, Monsieur said he was hungry, and I said I had the perfect idea for where to go, if it was still there.  I was thinking, of course, of Demarchelier, and, as we got closer to Fifth Avenue, I was having my doubts as to whether or not it was still there.  You know how it goes, honeys; in this town, things disappear so quickly!!!!!!!!!!  And especially in this economy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  But there it still was!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                So, after the museum, in we march to Demarchelier.  The front of the place, and the bar, were pretty full, but there were two adjoining back areas, which had ample space for us.

                                                I sensed disaster in the air, when I first sensed Auntie Alvin's discomfort over being in such a place, though it was far--FAR, darlings, I am telling you!!!--from high end.  The second sense I got was when our hostess, whom I shall dub Fucking Bitch, came over to us, did not really greet us or show us any token friendliness, like good service providers do.  She had this faux French accent that I could tell was straight out of something like Mrs. Santamatina's French class, and, though I would say she was in her mid-forties (you could tell by how tight her skin was!!!!), she had on this white frilly blouse, and pants, suggesting she was trying to emulate Shelley Plimpton in "HAIR," (she had her obviously dyed blonde hair in a pony tail; did she think she was Debbie Reynolds in "Tammy?") or something, even though, dolls, she was on the FAR side of the Age Of Aquarius!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                I think we would have gotten a warmer welcome from Leni Riefenstahl!!!!!!!!  Hell, with the attitude already on display, our hostess would have fit in great with the SS!!!!!!!
Bet she has read "In The Garden Of The Beasts," by Eric Larson!!!!!!!!!!  She was  some beast herself!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                 This is only the tip of the iceberg, dolls!!!!!!!!  We are seated; the busboy, or whatever lackey was on duty, took his time about cleaning and setting the table, which I did not like!!!!!!!!!
But we got seated, and our young waiter, whose only fault was pretentiousness, not nastiness, took our orders.

                                                    Let me say, in favor of the kitchen staff, the food was good, and reasonably priced.  I had watercress soup (appetizer) and coq au vin (entree).  The latter--actually both courses--were delicious.  Monsieur had an Express Lunch, consisting of a Frenched up version of a grilled cheese and ham (called Croque Monsieur) with salad and French fries, or, en francais, pommes frites.  Auntie Alvin, of delicate nature, had the poached eggs and salmon.  All well prepared, all deliciously edible!!!!!!!!!   Thank you, kitchen staff!!!!!!!!!

                                                      The front line staff were something else, and all should be fired!!!!!!!!!
Before the meal, Monsieur ordered coffee, and the first sign of trouble was when he had to scream, and practically flag down the server to get some.  THEN the server walked off, audibly mimicking, "More coffee, sir!!!!!!," which got both our goats!!!!!!!!!  He served the coffee--Finally!!!!--and begrudgingly!!!!!!!!

                                                        Let me back up, to say that while serving our main courses, the soup bowl and spoon from my appetizer had not been removed yet!  I had to shove it at the server, for fear he was going to just dump my entree on top of everything!!!!!!!!!  But NOW comes the piece de resistance!!!!!!!!!!

                                                          Our dishes are cleared, we are finished, and, clearly, our meals are to come with dessert and coffee.  The main menu did not feature desserts, so it was understandable there was a separate menu.  Fine!!!!!!!!!!!  But, when twenty minutes went by, and no one had so much as come over to ask us if we wanted anything more, I was growing impatient, and so was Monsieur, with this unprofessional service.  So, he got up (we were sitting at a banquette, and he was near the window, on the other side of which, by the bar, was the waiters' station), and retrieved a dessert menu for us, when the hostess made a scene.  When she heard the complaint of our waiting, she couldn't give a rat's ass, snarling, "I'll bring them over!"  Then, she flung them the menus down on the table, and that is when all Hell broke!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                         Monsieur confronted Hostess, saying how poor the service was here. She shouted at him, , rather shrilly, "Well, you were seated right away!!!!"   Excuse me, what has THAT to do with anything????  Were you doing us a favor??????  Because, let me tell you, this was NOT Lutece!!!!!!!!

                                                          Auntie Alvin and I were still seated at our table!!!!!!!!!  Suddenly, I heard the hostess shout shrilly, "You are being SO rude!  I don't want to hear this!"  That did it!!!! I got up, because NO ONE insults my David!!!!!!!!!!  Alvin tried to brush it off; unfortunately, my anger got the better of me, and I shouted at him to shut up, for which I immediately apologized!!!!!!!!!  Then I marched out to them both, saying, "Listen, you fucking bitch (hence the nickname!!!!!!!!), YOU'RE the one being rude; don't you talk to him like that!" and then a free-for-all broke out, with the guy next to us, demanding his check, so he could clear out!!!!!!  I was hoping we would start an exodus of patrons leaving, and I think this is what they feared, because this guy (who may have been the owner or manager) came around from behind the bar, whereupon I threatened him with this blog, which I am making good on NOW!!!  Then these two dyed in the wool (as opposed to natural) blondes got into the act, and at that point I said, "Don't you start with ME, you Upper East Side bitches!!!!!!!!!"  Well, they were huffy, but they backed off!  I didn't want to pay or leave a tip!  Monsieur said we had to pay, and I am sure the trembling, equivocating Auntie Alvin (who, sadly, could not support us, even though he knew we were right!!!!) left a sizable tip!!!!!!!!!  Choke on it, you bitches!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                         Once on the street, I went back to the front windows, and gave the Upper East Side bitches "the finger!"  What I would have like to have done is rip their hair out by its unnatural roots!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                            So, girls, do not EVER go to this dump!!!!!!!!!!  Oh, and once she got worked up, Fucking Bitch Hostess dropped her phony French accent fast, showing her true colors, that she was most likely a lowlife working class harridan from Bayonne, New Jersey!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                              Demarchelier, let this posting be your death knell!!!!!!!!! Just ask the former manager of Paris Commune, if you don't believe it!!!!!!  I hope the sprinkler system goes, and saturates everything in water, ruining the place!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I hope the Board of Health comes knocking at your door!!!!!!!!!!  Most of all, I hope Gojira swims all the way into Manhattan, stomps on the restaurant, and does a big, smelly poop in the middle of it!!!!  Then, I hope he picks up Fucking Bitch ,and, with his thumb and index finger, flicks her all the way across the Hudson, back into the fifth floor waterfront dive in Bayonne, where she lives!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                              Down With Demarchelier!!!!!!!!!!  The actual real downtrodden of Victor Hugo's "Les Miserables" wouldn't be caught seen there!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                                And that goes double for the Raving Queen!  Throw these phony French faux out onto the street!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                                   "You'll Never Eat Lunch In This Town Again?????"  No, darlings, I will NEVER eat ANYTHING here again!!!!!!!!  And don't you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!