A writer's delicious account of a decadent lunch late in life with a diva to end all divas. Excerpt:
Arriving early on the day of our meeting, I was led to a table. There was fine sunlight, lovely wood and an attentive waiter. I looked at the prices on the menu and wanted to scram. Kitt was late -- first 10 minutes, then 20. She may have been born poor, but she traveled through life with the blood of a true diva. So, of course, she'd be late. But I fretted she might have forgotten, or changed her mind. Then I noticed heads swiveling toward the entrance -- and there stood Eartha Kitt, wearing a short, bone-white fur coat, white slacks and a canary yellow turban atop her head. She had a white poodle cupped in each arm. I gave a wave, and she strode over, the poodles twisting in her arms."Let's order!" she demanded. She said she didn't care to remove her sunglasses because it was still early in the day. It was around 1:30 in the afternoon.
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Alternate title:
Kitt and The Poodles
Great article, but $138.06 isn't really that eye-popping a lunch bill, particularly if the luncheon is essentially a business lunch with a very important client, which a lunch by a writer conducting an in-depth interview with a celebrity is. With all the buildup about the price of the lunch in the article, I was expecting a much bigger dollar figure quoted at the end.
But in any case, Eartha Kitt, RIP.
I suppose it is important to be different and colorful in order to stand out of the crowd and rise from poverty to stardom in show business. This appears to lead to this sort of self-centered inconsiderate behavior in many cases, but star-struck reporters appear to be willing to accept behavior in exchange for lots of dropped names and juicy anecdotes that they can use on the big city cocktail party circuit.
The rest of us are rarely impressed, although we might enjoy the artist's performances.
Remind me not to sit next to Another Ann on a non-stop flight to Sydney.
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