From a post titled "Lou Reed Takes the Asshole Cake" at Embrace the Dull:
So reports Liz, who waited on Mr. Reed last night at The Hotel on Rivington. I'm not sure what an asshole cake would look like...that's a lie, I'm actually quite sure what an asshole cake would look like, and believe me, Sweet Lou can keep it. I've been a Lou Reed/Velvet Underground fan for over decade, for a few years during that span my fandom reached a rabid level. ...I went so far as a to read a pretty boring bio about Lou (written by Victor Bockris) which revealed, among other things, that Lou is a total cocksucker, both literally and figuratively.
Whether he was psychologically terrorizing his girlfriend in college, treating Mo Tucker and Sterling Morrison like trained monkeys, or screwing his manager out of hundreds-of-thousands of dollars (that manager also being his then-wife) - Lou could always be counted on to be total douchebag. When he was churning out albums with the Velvets, or, to a far lesser extent, songs like Walk on the Wild Side or Perfect Day, his behavior could almost be excused. And by excused I mean he may have been a total prick but at least he was contributing something to the collective ether.
Now, with a muse long since extinguished from years of amphetamine-use (and generally being an awful human being) Lou has recused himself to the status of Nicole Ritchie or Naomi Campbell: a little dandy bitch who goes to nice restaurants and barks orders at servers who have no choice but to comply.
"I want a salad with NO DRESSING and I like pumpkin seeds and pumpkin oil and sea salt, but not regular sea salt PINK SEA SALT (ed: what the fuck is pink sea salt?). And I want NO BUTTER OR CREAM IN ANYTHING"
...Further into the meal Lou, incredulous to the fact that no one saw his leathery, ashen face and connected it to the now-legendery moped ads that he did in the late 80s, began to verbally fart out things like "stop!!" and "what!!" (seriously, he sat there shouting) hoping that his quasi-touretts would attract some much-needed attention to his star that began fading in 1971. Holy shit, Maybe John Cale was the talent in that fucking band! Mercifully, they left. Their check comped by the restaurant, of course. And without leaving Liz a tip, of course. Until today Sister Ray was one of my favorite songs, no longer...I'm sure Lou is heartbroken.
I'm torn because I was a waiter once and the guys from Blondie treated me horribly, so I see where this person is coming from. But then again, I tend to side with Lou Reed in just about anything. I guess it's safe to say that this is Advanced behavior because it didn't happen to me. By the way, saying "Sister Ray" is one of your favorite songs is, of course, quite Overt, even if it's true.