Darlings, Perhaps They Should Have Sent Out The Vice Squad Last Night!!!!!!!!!

               
                                    Girls, I am telling you, it was an anniversary evening like no other.  As Monsieur and I commence our third year of bliss, we decided to cap off the second with a romantic dinner out, as a sort of respite/reward from all the work we have done getting ready for....the Move!!!!!!!!!

                                   As it turned out, we had to dine in the Theater District, because he was going to be in that area in the evening, due to a Board Meeting at the Actors Temple.  So, while waiting, I attended this meeting, and, sweeties, the evening started out on a high note.  It was like a show on the Borscht Belt Circuit!!!!!!!

                                    Those two wild and crazy kids, Dan and Norma, who get themselves in things like "NEXT Magazine"  (Can you believe I have not been in it???? And they are not even gay!!!!!!  But I don't seem to have the porno vanilla body they seem to be looking for)  presided over things, and, thank God for them.  Because you have never seen a cast of characters like this in your life.  Carol Ostrow entered like she was doing a bad impersonation of Lainie Kazan understudying Barbra in "Funny Girl," and proceeded to act like she was Babs.  She kept talking about this guy, Howard Teisch, as though he were Manna from above and the Devil.  He admitted to giving her a hard time; I can understand why.  Then there was Randy Levine-Miller, who sauntered in with the most fabulous forties hairdo, like your traditional Jewish American Princess newly arrived from the Beauty Parlor, which I am sure she was.  I was looking forward to Randy talking, because with that outfit and hair, she at least had some stage presence.  But, with poor Carol (who had none!!!) yakking away, Randy could not get a word in edgewise.

                                    And there I was, sitting away from this melee in a church pew, all to myself, when this older woman who looked   like she had been set loose from a group home (and probably was) entered, with so many bags; one of them, a big red thing to rival Mary Poppins' carpet bag, almost knocked me off the chair.  I bet she went by some ersatz name like Schalimar Schultz!!!!  She had some kind of shmatke coat on.  This was only worsened by when she removed it, and emerged in this shocking pink dress, (even I found it shocking, darlings, and I thrive on pink!!!!!!!!) with cleavage so low her boobies were about to pop out at any second.Added to which the dress was far too short, too low cut, and had all these tulles flowing below the knee and encircling the dress to give it that flowing gown effect.  I don't know how she could stand to wear it. First off, she was on the far side of 60, was too short and not at all physically equipped for such a garment.  Second, it was a bit chilly out last night; hardly warm enough for attire like this.  And even if it were, it may be OK to wear this to Coney Island, but  not to a board meeting of a religious organization!!!!!!!!  This has to be, so far, the fashion faux pas of the year for me, darlings!!!!!!!!!!  If only Joan Rivers had seen this!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                   Come to think of it, they could have used Joan at the board meeting, because she would not have stood for some of the nonsense that went on.  And she would have put this woman, June, in her place.  Did she have to comment each time someone else spoke????? If anyone deserves to be named "June Havoc" it is she, because havoc is what she causes, and she is no dainty baby, let me tell you!!!!!!!!

                                      I was so glad when Monsieur got up and said to me, "Come on; we're going!"  With a wave to Norma, I high tailed it out of there,   for the next part of our evening, which was our anniversary dinner.

                                        Vice Versa, located at 325 West 51st Street, had been highly recommended to me.  The atmosphere was dark, and fittingly romantic.  Interestingly, we were seated in a diagonal pattern between two very different groups--one of gay men on some sort of social group outing (they were very well groomed, and as soon as I heard one of them utter the phrase, "She won the TONY Award!" I thought, "Aha!!!!!"), the other a group of over aged frat boy types, who bellowed and carried on as though they were in a locker room!!!!!!!  I am amazed no one complained about them.   And there we were, sitting between these tables, by the garden--just a sweet couple celebrating our anniversary.

                                          It is a good thing the meal was satisfying.  Monsieur had some anchovies as an appetizer, which you could not pay me to eat.  But there was this interesting concoction of fried calamari and artichokes, blended together, in a veggie salad arrangement, that was tasty and different. For the main course, we opted for the simple and traditional--a fussili pasta in tomato sauce, with marinara, and eggplant. You can never go wrong with eggplant, darlings!!!!!!!!!  Forget Jamie Lee Curtis and Activia--THIS is nature's laxative!!!!!!!!!  But the meal was scrumptious.  As was the bread they put out.  For desert, we again kept it simple--rum raisin ice cream for Monsieur, and lemon sorbet for me. No coffee, due to the hour and acid reflux, and a plate of petit cookies.  And that was that.  No wine, because we both had to work today, and because of the hour and mixing my meds.

                                          A lovelier anniversary celebration, one could not ask for.  And yet....a pity. For, even though we got excellent service, and even if the frat boys had not been there, nothing about Vice Versa was distinctive.  Not even the waiters; can you imagine; at a little hole in the wall like the Bus Stop Cafe down on Hudson, you get someone as enticing as Cesare, but here, you wouldn't take any of these waiters home in a doggie bag!!!!!!!!!  But that was not the problem; it was just that nothing was distinctive. Just your average, darkly lit, Italian eatery on the West Side.  They tried to be trendy with modern looking furniture, but this Raving Queen is not to be fooled.  And the dish, while well made, was no different than something I could have whipped up at home, myself. Not to mention Monsieur. Listen well, Vice Versa--when the Raving Queen deigns to dine out, he wants the kind of experience he cannot possibly get at home!!!!!!!!!!!
This was not it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                        Not that it's bad, darlings!!!!!!!!!  It is just not something special.

                                        You would NEVER have seen a place like this in "Gigi"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!