A Disco Dance Down Memory Lane.

What to wear to a Studio 54 party?
There was glitter.
There were two Andy Warhols.
Both with white wigs.
I wore a short, boring black dress.
Our old (actually young) GDLA producer Loren Ruch just had an epic Studio 54 birthday party.
I used to live at 53rd & 8th.
Next to Studio 54.
Passed it every day.
It was passed it’s heyday.
But still there.
Cavernous with lots of mirrors.
Mirrors for primping and (I assume) snorting.
A somewhat famous friend of Steve’s was there in the day of Cher, Jackie O and Truman Capote.
This guy sat on a sofa.
One Donald Trump plopped down next to him.
Trump said…
“Who the hell are you?”
Knowing Trump’s ego was the size of his tower…
The guy said…
“Who the hell are you?”
Trump was incredulous.
He said…
I’m the biggest real estate guy in the city.
I’m in Page Six every day.
Everybody knows me.
Trump hurrumphed and left.
He hasn’t changed.
We haven’t changed much either.
Steve still wanted Jill to drive him to the party.
Sure…get the girl with cancer to Uber you.
Then Steve didn’t go.
Just like old times.
Everyone admired Jillian’s cleavage.
Like old times.
Her boobs are no longer real…
But still spectacular.
My friendship with Jill has changed.
We’re actually friends now.
Good friends.
Our producers say…
Might have been nice if we’d liked each other back then.
Oh well.
What the hell.
Of course I dragged Mr G to this party.
He said we were probably the only two that had actually been to Studio 54.
I wore the same thing that I wore back then…
A short, boring black dress.