The Victor

We spent last night at Edison's martini party on the roof of The Hotel Victor, next to The Palace. War, civil unrest, and general strikes may plague the city, but the posh hotel--a favorite of celebrities like The Countess Bedelia--was awash with partiers. (Where have I seen this before?) The rooms start at something like $450 a night and they are at 80% capacity. Unfortunately, The Victor may not have anyone to wash the dishes or cook the food either if Bush has his way.
The impressive drapes in the staircase made any boy have fantasies of The Stage.
I remembered that Claudius had been found hiding beind curtains by The Imperial Guard and immediately proclaimed emperor. If I were emperor I would round up every Republican, declare Texas an independent country, and exile them all to it.

The hotel's restaurant prices are as lavish as it's cuisine and decor and we found it packed. Ditmar and I had our martinis served in the most extraordinary glasses, sort of like the style that popped up when Art Nouveau met Art Deco. There was no way, no matter how many times I tried, to fit one in my Gucci clutch. (Note to self: Next time bring the Prada tote.)