Was I singled out because I was flying solo, middle-aged or a woman?

Friday night was eye opening.

I was meeting my husband way the hell downtown at a new restaurant, Le Coucou.

I was unable to make a reservation, but it was a Friday night during the summer.

Le Coucou is a new upscale dining establishment from Chef Daniel Rose whose Spring Restaurant in Paris was quite the hit.

It was raining when I arrived.

I approached the hostess stand and already I knew I was in trouble.

The twenty-something’s fangs were showing.

“Yes, what can I do for you.”

I said I did not have a reservation…was anything available.

“NO!”

My follow up was could I wait at the bar. “We have a bar, but you cannot eat there.”

I hesitated because I had made the 30 minute subway ride, it was raining and I had plans to meet my husband at Le Coucou.

While cogitating, the bitch said, “Move over someone is behind you.”

Would she have treated a gentleman or couple that way?

Just throwing it out there.

I departed and realized that Pasquale Jones was close by.

They remembered me and were lovely, but, alas, I could not be seated if my party was not complete.

There is no room to wait so the hostess suggested, La Compagnie des Vins Surnatls, a wine bar on Centre Street, a few blocks away.

I arrived and the forty-something host looked me up and down and said I could not sit alone at a table.

“They are only for two or more.”

I said that was fine I’ll just sit at the bar. He said there was no room.

The french piggy commanded me to wait even though there was space.

Usually I head for the door, but it was pouring and this was not my ‘hood.

I stood and stared. After 15 minutes of inattention, a woman approached.

“Can I help you?!”

I told her what had transpired and she said that was ridiculous and immediately sat me at the bar.

The bartender gave me 5 seconds of attention and I sat and waited for my male validation.

Listen, I am anything, but insecure.

I am an smart, attractive woman who looks a lot younger than my chronological age.

I can make a tree talk yet I was invisible.

The minute my knight in shining armor arrived on his yellow medallion stallion, the bartender was all over us.

I was indignant so I called my daughter and vented.

Maybe I was being oversensitive because the world is so fucked up right now, rampant with prejudice, entitlement and insensitivity.

But, no.

You don’t have to Put A Ring On It or have the girls on display to be relevant.

Cheers.