Preferences

And one more for good measure. Leo! That's what I call a big star. He's been everywhere in New York lately, lunching with Baz Luhrmann at Cafe Gitane, wearing some sort of scary wolf mask at the Soho House Halloween party. You know, creeping up on models like a Victoria's Secret boy short. Point being, dude's out and about. Which brings me to a few weeks ago, when I found myself at a club called Avenue at around 1:30 a.m., sardine-stuffed with the rest of the idiots onto a tiny dance floor drinking a $25 vodka soda. Fyi, I'm not the kind of girl who typically goes to "the club." Never have been. Give me a Guinness, a dive bar, a dirty dance floor and an amenable DJ and I'm good to go. But what can I say? Sometimes you just have to follow your friends to Avenue and be miserable about it. So as I was planning my escape, there was suddenly a buzz in the air. A je ne sais quoi. And before we could say, "unnecessary baseball cap and bad jeans," in walks Leonardo Dicaprio, flanked by some sort of bodyguard and bona fide solo, no less. The most interesting part of the equation is that he did not disappear into some VIP room where he could get his creep on in the privacy of his own...VIP room. No. He proceeded to stand on top of a banquet bordering the dancefloor and survey the room, swaying back and forth every now and then. Rather harmlessly, I might add. It just seemed curious to me. Here I was, a nobody, and Avenue was pretty much the last place I wanted to be. But Leo Dicaprio...he could probably be sharing a vintage scotch with Bob De Niro that very moment in Bob De Niro's apartment, no less and instead he's like, "Nah, I think I'll take the banquet dancing at Avenue. Hand me another $25 vodka soda, will ya? Extra lime."