I was picked up in a limo after work and taken to The Old Homestead Steakhouse over in the Meat Packing District/Chelsea. Herbert Khaury was performing. He had sent the limo. I was going to be 'Queen For A Day'. The limo looked something like this: The driver was an old friend of Khaury's from way back who had once been a NYPO, now retired, and who at the time had trouble walking. His name was Colonel Something or Another. I can't remember. He's dead now. He was married to a Filipino woman and had lots of kids. When I arrived at that shiny, beefy steakhouse, I was taken to a private room, away from patrons, where an array of randomness sat. I was seated at a table and instructed to order what I wanted. This was a pricey joint and me not knowing what the plans were, I chose the least expensive. Darlings, Tiny never struck me as rolling in the dough; and I'm a lady who likes to keep friends. I ate, I drank, I schmoozed. I sat through music set...
mostly gentle, sometimes turbulent