A poem from a journal 1983. Ah, Paris.
In 1983 I worked as the physionomiste at the door of Les Bains Douches off the Boulevard Sebastapol in Paris. Extraordinary my being offered the job, but the owners recognized my value to hold the fort a la porte. Many of my New York friends to this day remark that I had been the doorman at Studio 54.
"Only for a month." I had been hired in 1980 by Mark Fleischman, the mythic disco's second owner, who replaced Steve Rubell and Ian Schrager, who were serving a prison sentence for civil disobediance. I lasted a month and moved onto the notorious, but historic after-hours club the Jefferson Theater on East 14th Street run by the lord of the night Arthur Weinstein.
Another famed establisment of which I was equally as proud of as the Milk Bar and Balajo in Paris/ I was a good life. As the doorman of the Bains I was the most powerful American in Paris after dark. It was quite a responsibilty and I enjoyed all of it. Viva La France.
