Envy
I'm never quite prepared for the moment when fantasy becomes reality. Or for that matter when my fantastic expectations butt up against reality.
Both these things happened in New York this past week.
The Campbell Apartment is a place I'd read about. It's a place that really called to me in fundamental ways. It ranks, so many say, as one of the finest lounges in the world. Located at Grand Central Station in a room that is beautiful in every respect, it is a prohibition era lookout that trades in great cocktails and great humanity.
I was in New York for 3 days attending Vino 2009. This occasion allowed me to visit the Campbell Apartment. And I saw the most amazing things.
I sat in the back corner of the room, in relative darkness. From this vantage point I could see everything as I sipped on a beautiful Manhattan. Among the most amazing things I saw was a middle aged couple sitting on a banquette in the middle of the room, alone, with a bottle of Veuve Clicquot, empty, in a bucket in front of them. They had long ago forgotten about the Champagne they'd drunk earlier. They were caught up in the kind of passionate, intimate, sensual embrace that everyone I know would hope to duplicate at some point in their lives, if not regularly. The show they gave to the inhabitants of the Apartment was both revolting and gorgeous.
They really should have known better. Public displays of affection are one thing. But what this couple was doing was plainly disturbing to everyone around them—But they didn't know it. They didn't even think about it. They didn't even consider their disposition or anyone around them. I'm positive they had completely forgotten where they were and that they were putting on a show.
Despite their obvious inappropriateness and despite their disturbing display, I envied them.
Consider how lost in your partner you have to be to let yourself go over to complete inhibition in public. Consider how completely enveloped in love, lust or desire you have to be to let the beauty of the Campbell Apartment that surrounds you completely fade away to nothing but a space to hold air you'll eventually suck in once you come up for it.
My Manhattan was very good. My expectations for the famous lounge were largely met. I'll go back. And when I do I hope that I'll see this couple again. I hope I'll be repulsed by their inappropriateness again just so I can be reminded, again, that whatever it is that motivated them really does exist for all of us, and me in particular.
Good piece! It has to be one of the most civilised places to meet for a drink.
I know this is a wine blog, but I have to say the last time I went there I sat in one of those armchairs and thoroughly enjoyed a proper Gin and Tonic!
Hi Tom! Yes, I usually make a final stop there when visiting a special lady friend in NYC. But did you happen to order any wine while at the Apartment? I always notice they serve my wine in a really generic glass without much room for the wine to breathe.
AAhh. Champagne and lust are a beautiful pairing.
Despite living a mile away, I’ve never been – will make it a priority now, thanks
Tom,
The next time you’re in Grand Central, sit down at the small bar opposite the main entrance to the Oyster Bar and order — don’t faint now — a bottle of Heineken. Years ago I discovered that the bar’s refrigerator kept the brew at precisely the temperature that perfectly brought out its flavor and refreshment
power.
(Similarly, in the 1970’s I found that a neighborhood Greek restaurant — a canteen, now long gone, for us nearby New York Times types — refrigerated Boutari Retsina, a supposedly déclassé nonvintage white shunned by hifalutin winos, so ideally that we’d chug down a bottle or two with a porgy in spetsiota sauce.)
And while you swig the Heineken, take handfuls of the Oyster Bar’s overly salty peanuts, the best in town. You’ll find that you
can’t stop.
“Consider how lost in your partner you have to be to let yourself go over to complete inhibition in public. Consider how completely enveloped in love, lust or desire you have to be to let the beauty of the Campbell Apartment that surrounds you completely fade away to nothing but a space to hold air you’ll eventually suck in once you come up for it.”
Very, very well said. I have had my suspicions the major reason people are put off by PDA is because it’s not them. It’s a reaction of jealousy and envy more than disgust toward inappropriateness. To the ones who say “get a room” the lip-locked would reply, “fall in love.”