Jennifer on Insider Pages 2 months ago
11/20/2022, 02:30 AM
Nostalgic Feel, Bad Manners
I like to think of this place as a refuge for those of us who enjoy all things old-school, from humor to drinks to smokes to courtesy. I've been there many times because my husband plays in the band most Saturday nights, and I pay the nearly $20 per drink and endure the cigar smoke because I want to support him and because I enjoy getting dressed up and being treated like a lady. But last night's experience showed me that while the Carnegie Club may have nostalgic decor and music, its discourtesy is entirely modern. I arrived shortly before 8:30, as always since that's the show start time, but it was a particularly crowded night and there were no seats (as a musician's guest who prefers not to pay more for the cover than my husband is making on the gig, I can only hope a bar seat opens as they won't take reservations for non-cover-paying patrons). I accepted the idea of waiting for a seat to open unbegrudgingly, since there were others waiting, but the minutes then hours ticked by, and the hostess who had said she would let me know if a large group of reserved seats went unclaimed never looked me in the eye again (while other impatient patrons just swooped in and claimed the seats, and she said nothing). After an hour and a half, a man who looked like a young Alfred Hitchcock (who had been leering at me constantly as he stood next to his poor, but at least seated, date) whispered into the ear of a man who was about to leave, and a moment later it became apparent that he had asked for his seat because there was an almost choreographed switch. So much for chivalry. A second later, the other man in the vacating pair got up and an older woman who was obviously a regular snatched that seat, despite the fact that it was right next to me and I'd been waiting longer. Several minutes later, she leaned over and asked if I'd like to "sit for a second" while she used the restroom, as if I would accept her consolation prize, and I said "age before beauty, please." Now most New Yorkers would probably ask, "What were you doing, giving up seats and not standing up for yourself?" since we all understand that competition is innate to life here. But I don't expect to have to fight for a seat as if I'm riding the crosstown bus or pushing through a tacky crowd at Webster Hall when I'm at the Carnegie Club. I ended up standing throughout the entire first show, juggling my St. Germain and champagne flute and wearing heels and cocktail dress and the whole nine while being pushed and brushed against and shuffled around constantly, and was STILL handed a bill including the cover fee (which I contested and did not pay). This all while seats in the back were open but never offered to me. Women in Sinatra's era may not have had equal pay or fair treatment, but at least they were treated with gentility and class. I would even have accepted some MadMen-style sexual harassment in exchange for some foot pain relief. I'm not an old curmudgeon, I'm 32, but my manners are MUCH better than those of the Carnegie Club, which should know better at its age.