We liked bizarre people because we didn't really take ourselves that seriously, and we were amused about how seriously everybody else seemed to take themselves. That was our approach at that point.
We rode around in that gray Mercedes, staying up all night after the discotheques closed at four. Sometimes I'd drive, but Edie loved to drive herself... it was like riding a horse. She told me all about her family. She seemed to love her mother... it was almost "the poor dear... the poor thing is going to be so worried." CHUCK WEIN
We rode around in that gray Mercedes, staying up all night after the discotheques closed at four. Sometimes I'd drive, but Edie loved to drive herself... it was like riding a horse. She told me all about her family. She seemed to love her mother... it was almost "the poor dear... the poor thing is going to be so worried." CHUCK WEIN
*
Edie got into spending her inheritance. It was a time when the discotheques were opening - like Ondine - and people were beginning to live up in places like that. We often went stoned drunk to a place called L'Avventura to have these gigantic diners. Edie loved salmon. And extra lemons on her Bloody Marys. All that extra this and extra that. She ate vast quantities of shrimp. Shrimp and salad, stuff you would think was healthy. But she had four of whatever it was.
I quit my job at the Right Bank restaurant to be her chauffeur. She paid me one hundred dollars a week. We had first met in Cambridge when she was studying sculpture and had gotten to be friends in a curious non-lover way. It was a bit of a strange arrangement to be her chauffeur, but it seemed okay to me. Then I went pow into a taxi in front of the Seagram building and cracked up her Mercedes. I felt so sad, because she loved that car. But it didn't faze her in the least. She didn't get angry. We began travelling in limousines. TOM GOODWIN
EDIE: AN AMERICAN BIOGRAPHY
Copyright Jean Stein and George Plimpton 1982
