When in-your-face filmmaker Michael Moore walks in the door with his crew, the usual response is fear. But when he wheeled up to Fillmore’s Elite Cafe on a recent Thursday evening and alighted from a black SUV with dark-tinted windows, diners at the sidewalk tables stood and applauded.
Moore had just come from the Clay Theater two blocks up the street, where he hosted a private screening of his new documentary, Capitalism: A Love Story. The master of the ambush interview arrived at the Elite without his camera rolling. And it wasn’t a surprise drop-in. Someone called ahead and made a reservation for four.
Despite his blue-collar persona, Moore didn’t have a shot and beer. “He ordered a Kahlua and double cream on the rocks,” said Fabian Oregon, the Elite’s personable bartender, who often works the plank solo at night.
“He was a gentleman,” said server Abby McLaughlin. Moore was dressed for the occasion in his trademark baseball cap, black T-shirt and jeans. “He took his cap off during dinner,” McLaughlin says, and when Moore and his party left, “He shook my hand and said goodbye.”
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Back home in the neighborhood from the political slugfest in Washington, D.C., House Speaker Nancy Pelosi and her son — along with her Secret Service contingent — dropped in unannounced for dinner at Florio the other night.
From her table in the back of the dining room, she was the soul of graciousness as well-wishers repeatedly interrupted her dinner. Neither the public nor the politicians drove her to drink: She stuck strictly with San Pellegrino.
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