Harriet is leaving her boyfriend Claude, "the French rat." That at least is how
Harriet sees things, even if it's Claude who has just asked Harriet to leave his
Greenwich Village apartment. Well, one way or another she has no intention of l
eaving. To the contrary, she will stay and exact revenge--or would have if Claud
e had not had her unceremoniously evicted. Still, though moved out, Harriet is n
ot about to move on. Not in any way. Girlfriends circle around to patronize and
advise, but Harriet only takes offense, and it's easy to understand why. Because
mad and maddening as she may be, Harriet sees past the polite platitudes that e
veryone else is content to spout and live by. She is an unblinkered, unbuttoned,
unrelenting, and above all bitingly funny prophetess of all that is wrong with
women's lives and hearts--until, in a surprise twist, she finds a savior in a da
rk room at the Chelsea Hotel.
