"What I tell everybody else is that I have no curiosity what anybody does, as long as they pay their check. We've all heard a lot of things, and I don't care one way or another. We're all here to make sure people have a good time."
The few customers on a Tuesday at 9 p.m. seem to be having a good time. I'm seated next to the kitchen, but the waiter is jovial and even reminisces with me about the absurdity of Farrell's ice cream parlors. However, when I throw in an oblique reference to Heidi, he nimbly ignores it and asks if I want coffee.
At about 10, Don Henley and a female friend sit down in a nearby booth. I get a celebrity--it's just not Heidi.
So off I go to another of Heidi's haunts, Roxbury. This Sunset Strip nightclub, the site of the infamous fight between "Beverly Hills, 90210" star Shannen Doherty and actress Bonita Money, is going full-tilt at 11:30. Does anybody here have a day job?
Limos, Porsches, pickups and Toyota sedans pull up in the driveway, where the valets will gladly take your keys for $5.
Inside, '70s disco tunes like "We Are Family" draw a huge crowd to the upstairs dance floor, where it's very dark, smells of smoke and alcohol, and the volume vetoes all communication but sign language.
Almost every club has a VIP area, usually nothing more than a separate room where everyone wants to be because they think something special goes on there, but it never does. At Roxbury, the VIP room has a row of banquets, a bar and a separate sound system that clashes badly with the dance-floor music. The bartenders are crooning along to "The Commitments" soundtrack, one grabbing the soda dispenser to use as a microphone.
A tall blonde and three friends move through the club in a pack. She wears a black spandex mini-dress, black high heels and nude pantyhose. Peeking out of the top of her chunky handbag is a tall can of hair spray.
Roxbury has no shortage of pretty young things in hot pants, tight bell-bottoms and platform shoes--just the type a big Hollywood producer might like. But are these true party girls or just girls who want to have fun? Heidi might know, but she's nowhere to be found among the disco babes.
A small group gathers outside of the new and very chic nightclub-restaurant-bar Tatou in Beverly Hills on Wednesday night at about 10. A tall, lean doorman holding a clipboard lords over the men and women who want in.
"Look," the doorman says to a young man, explaining why he can't let him in. "Your friend's wearing a T-shirt."
"Yeah," the man says, "but it's an \o7 expensive\f7 T-shirt."
Someone else asks for admission, but is denied. "I'm sorry," the doorman says, "but I've got people in there for dinner and there's a (performance) showcase going on. Are you here for the showcase? Is your name on The List?"
A woman's pretty operatic voice wafts out when the door is opened for someone whose name \o7 is\f7 on The List. I ask if I can just go in for a drink, and the doorman ignores me completely.
Oh, well. Heidi's probably home watching Leno.