Earth NYC

Friday nights are Out of Control at Earth NYC! Tommy, Karen, Ditha, Gary and I took full advantage of the no cover, complimentary open bar from 9pm-11pm.

Typical "velvet rope syndrome" prevailed. The bouncer asked if we were on a list or there for a private party--when we got inside the space was desolate--I practically saw haystacks rolling past the gorgeous Indian cushioned interior.

The waitress was incredibly rude. We sat at a "Reserved" table since there were exactly 4 people in the 300 person space when we arrived. We acquiesed to her request that "food must be ordered to sit down"...Ditha and I oogling the Chicken Manchurian and Tommy looking sheepisly on. Once our food was out, she brought us our check, informing us that we need to pay up and move out of the seats. Why? There wasn't a soul in sight.

20% gratuity had been tacked on to our party of three, which I didn't protest but I drew a friendly arrow from "additional tip" to the following comment:
"Perhaps if the service had been acceptable, I would have considered an additional tip."

The waitress promptly began the all-night process of sucking up to me. She offered us an open table near the door. It was chilly so she raced off to turn up the heat--not that I think this was even possible without making the other people in the place too warm. She brought me drinks from the open bar--sometimes two at a time, to match my drinking at open bar events. Tommy refused to drink anything she brought for fear that she may have spit in it--or worse! I mean, how much worse could she do between the bar and our table?

At the end of the evening I wrote her this note on the last check--Ditha craftily slid my credit card out of the pocket in the receipt and paid with cash, now that she's a Tollywood hotshot she's PAYING for me!--
"Caroline has been a delight. She met needs before we could process having them. Having waited tables in the past, I know this is a mark of a great server. Thanks, C!"

On Larry and Tommy's dare, I casually ambled over to a nervous, Asian boy dressed in requisite plaid sweater vest--chatted him up and learned that his name was "Eddie". Shortly after I ambled back to my table to collect on the $5 reward, a posse of Asian girls had swarmed around him, accepting him as their own--no brown girls allowed. It's amazing how one woman's attention will breed the envy of women previously uninterested. Human nature!

It was a debaucherous evening. A charming black man in a fedora approached me and offered his number. I smiled coyly but withdrew. I'm not calling you brotha...you can call me if you want to--providing him with my digits, slyly. He's been texting and I'm not sure the interest extends past his hat.

There were some Indian boys who came to America for college but stayed on--I even ended up smoking a cigarrette (which I NEVER do) since my company was delighting them to such a degree--then we danced and danced and danced.