Musical Chairs

Where do you rank in the social pecking order? The answer depends on where you sit.

By Barbara Guggenheim

My last dinner party had barely begun, and my actor friend (let’s call him Sam) was already unhappy. “I’m out of here right now if you don’t change my seat,” he threatened as the cocktail hour got underway. My husband, Bert, had carefully seated Sam who, God knows, needs a new film, next to a key director who might just do him some good But, no, Sam insisted on being seated next to his wife, violating age-old rules of placement, or the art of table seating. While it’s become quite common at Hollywood dinner parties to seat husbands and wives together, I find the resulting flirting deficit usually makes for dull events.

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The Torrid Tale Of A Piece Of Gossip

By Barbara Guggenheim

What led me to think I could and should swear off gossip – at least for a while – started with something my friend Samantha told me over lunch.

“Did you hear?” she asked, leaning forward over her tuna tartare. “Lester and Jane are having an affair.” “Really?” I replied incredulously. Jane is wild and crazy. I thought, but she’s married to a man she loves desperately, and Lester’s an arrogant, high-profile bore. “Yeah, Lester and his wife were at a dinner party. It was hot, and the men took off their jackets. When Lester left, he forgot his,” Samantha continued, breathless, “After everyone left, the hostess looked in the jacket pockets for some identification and found a sex note to Lester from Jane. It was partially burned.” I nearly choked on my asparagus. I knew the genesis of this particular story, and alarmingly, it was traceable to me.

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