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exactly what strange drives keep these fans orbiting in the reflected glow of fame, there are indications that the people inside Sardi's need the autograph seekers just as badly as the outsiders need the stars.  "We all do our little routines," says one regular.  "Dianne Cannon was around tonight – the ex-Mrs. Cary Grant.  She's not too pretty but she's very nice.  I told her, 'I saw you sing on Dick Cavett and you were marvelous.'  'Oh, thank you.  Thank you, Mike,' she said.  See what I mean, you tell them what they want to hear."

Basically, the Sardi's group are night people, though most of them work at something during the day.  (David, for example, is a Good Humor man in Brooklyn.)  Real life for them begins about 5 P.M. on 59th Street, where they make the rounds of the glamor hotels.  "I usually start at the Plaza," says David.  "Then I work Delmonico's, the St. Regis, the Sherry-Netherland.  The doormen tell me who's coming."  From there it's on to any special event, such as a movie première or television show with a particularly luminous star.  Then, finally, each night there is the wind-up at about 11:15 at Sardi's.

For David, Celia, and their little band, this is the witching hour.  Here, on the sidewalk in front of Sardi's at the evening's end, they gather to exchange notes.  ("Shirley Jones's movie is location shooting at the Latin Quarter tomorrow night.");  to extol triumphs ("Estelle Parsons let me hold her Oscar the other night.  I told her it was like meeting a celebrity.");  to lament failures ("Look at that.  Merv Griffin signed 'To Ethyl' – just like the gasoline.").  And, most immportant, it's here they tie into the theatrical grapevine.

So on consideration, it might be safely said that their reasons for being outside Sardi's aren't so very different from the reason those other people have for being inside.  Neither is their conversation....

"Is that Mia Farrow?"

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