Our crazy night at Melvyn's

Melvyn's is the legendary restaurant at the foot of the san Jacinto Mountains at the glamorous Ingleside Inn, built in 1925.

The Ingleside Inn is absolutely charming, with its hidden wrought iron gated circular drive lined with bungalows that have hosted every star in the book from Gary Cooper to Jerry Lewis!

From the moment our valet whisks us to the front door we are in heaven. We are welcomed by a maitre de who looks like Dick Van Patten, in a faded red dinner jacket and a clip-on bow tie slightly on the skewiff.

For some crazy reason we are shown to MR MELVYN'S OWN TABLE (we hear about the fact that we are seated at MR MELVYN'S OWN TABLE many times during the night, and in case we forget, there is a little brass plaque behind us stating it is RESERVED FOR MR MELVYN)

The table is FABULOUS -I can see why Mr Melvyn loves it here - the best people spotting seat in the place and the people are BIZARRE!!!!!!!! And everybody seems old school SMASHED!

Across the aisle from us is a MOST BIZARRE threesome - an older couple - he is in a shiny suit, and she is in a picture hat and dark glasses even though it is pitch black outside! Her whole outfit is so crazy for a minute i think she is lady gaga until i realise how OLD and WORKED ON she is - but the weird part is the young man they have with them who looks like Brad Pitt straight out of Thelma and Louise - and the amount of attention and alcohol BOTH of them are showering upon him - what the ... WHAT!?

Opposite us are a table of fat cat cigar chomping business men drinking scotch and schmoozing a Japanese business man - there may have been some blueprints - and they each had a steak bigger than my foot, and then the most amazing and huge souffle I have ever seen!

Under the crystal chandelier sits a large birthday party drinking magnums of perrier jouet like its water. I LOVE it here!

We are meagre people of the theatre so we splash out on a martini, but then stick to the prix fix menu, which ends up being enough food for about three people and deeee-lightful!

we LOVE our waiter, who seems to either be recovering his motor skills after a stroke of some kind, or also to be smashed - methinks the latter, as he loves to stop by our table for a long chat whilst teetering from side to side into our personal space - at one point i am sure he is going to fall face first into my mahi mahi, but he teeters off to the kitchen just in time.

During one of our long waiter chats a second person joins in the conversation - for some reason he is wearing a "Colombo" style shabby trench coat, even though he clearly has been at the bar, rather than outside in trench coat weather. He tells us we MUST come around to the Casablanca bar after dinner as he will be SINGING tonight! Of course we agree we will be there once our poached pear is all but a dim memory.

So after dinner we head past the long antique mahogany bar littered with pictures of Mr Melvyn with Barry Manilow, Mr Melvyn with Cher, Mr Melvyn with Jerry Lewis etc etc etc. It is said Frank Sinatra used to come to Melvyn's every week, and there is a huge portrait of him up behind the bar.

Then we enter THE CASABLANCA BAR - oh. my. god.! It is Cowpoke HEAVEN. We are proudly told it was MODERNISED in 1975, and oh yes it was! The dance floor is straight out of "Saturday Night Fever" with mirrored walls, floors, and ceilings, oh dear lord it is FABULOUS.

Not only is Mr Trench Coat singing,(fabulously, by the way, and singing all our favourites!) but he is taking turns with the delightful SHARON who LOVES to belt out a tune (Like "Fever" and "Is that all there is")whilst caressing her own torso, and winking at all the men. Sharon must be at least 70, and is wearing VERY high heels, bare overtanned legs, a ridiculously short tight white dress in some kind of clingy jersey fabric with a giant glittery peacock motif. She is wearing one too many sparkly cocktail rings, a LOT of eyeliner, and clearly took a picture of PINK to the hairdressers as she has an AMAZING cropped white mullet - oh Sharon -I love you, but please stop grinding on the microphone stand and winking at my husband!

They are both accompanied by a lovely man in a tuxedo playing a baby grand piano. His two accessories are a cowpoke style lighting board he must operate whilst also playing the piano (on / of / onnoffonnoff) and he also has a BRANDY BALLOON sitting on the piano for our tips! It's a living tableux of a Billy Joel song.

Our waitress has styled herself on the timeless glamour of Miss Nancy Sinatra, including beehive, frosted lipstick and go go boots. We ask if we can have an extra serviette as they are retro fabulous and have a picture of frank sinatra on them - from that moment on she brings us approximately 110 serviettes every time she brings us a drink and we can barely stuff them into our bags and pockets when we leave.

At some point late into the night the atmosphere turns - Mr shiny suit and miss picture hat have re-appeared and are having a screaming match - bradd pitt is nowhere to be seen.

Sharon is sitting in a dark banquette with a handsome stranger just by the ladies toilets, and as i pass I hear the sentence "well I ever were to consider moving in with you what would I do with my dog"

It's time to boogie kids.

We are just drunk enough to sneak into the men's toilets where xavier cugat has famously drawn caricatures of the patrons on the wall, and then we are out of there.

And when you come to Palm Springs, we are DEFINITELY going to Melvyn's!