Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Spring Fever
May 25, 2011
Midtown-
Alright you pudwhacks, whichever one of you Kentucky Glue Gunned the idle stall in the executive men’s needs to just learn some common decency. I mean, I understand, on a day like today, the need to excuse yourself to do a number three in the first semi-private space you come across but, for the love of all that is sordid and evil in the world, clean up after yourself! This is what I get for hiring a bunch of pricks who spent their formative years locked up in all- male mental institutions like Deerfield and Lawrenceville with nothing better to hump than their roommate's goalie pads.
Come 1:30, guy finds himself standing in line at Mangia next to a simian looking creature that happens to be wearing a sun dress and he can barely make it into the elevator with his Tuna Nicoise. Shoulda stuck with the Pomfret and Brooks kids- at least they have the common sense and balls to just pay off the concierge for an hour in an empty room at the W. Leave a couple nugs of Durban Poison on the dresser and he’ll give you a late checkout next time.
Anyway, apparently spring has freakin sprung like a birfday present delivered to Wile E. Coyote from Acme Toy Company. When you go from March to August within twenty four hours it’s pretty damn clear who’s been sticking to the honk- and- Marlboro Lights- Miami Beach Diet and who’s been lip wrestling chicken wings and self loathing like they’ve been living in Canton, New York since November. Makes you want to slap the ice cream right outta their hands and replace it with a subscription to Shape and a coupon for a high colonic. And they wonder if they’re getting away with it at 230 Fifth on the first sunny afternoon since the proceedings on Raj Raj went down. Not unless they got some Danille Chiesi quality scoops and an affection for middle managers in suits from Century 21 they ain’t.
Speaking of 230 Fifth, I really don’t mind paying top dollar for a cocktail but keep it in a glass- if I’m drinking from a plastic cup it better be a Solo and in a place where you don’t have to bother to hide the wunnies, preferably near water. You gotta make a pretty damn good argument why I’m not jumping on the 4:07 and hopping on the Naughty by Nature for an evening’s cast on the Sound. They’ve been catching stripers off Nantucket for two weeks at this point and I’ve been sitting here with you dweebs speculating on the implications of Dodd-Frank like it’s going to make any difference in the long- term trajectory of our lives. We are hurtling through time towards unarguably questionable fourth civil ceremony on a dock in the Caribbean somewhere while the offspring from our first marriages try to figure out if they slept with their step-mom at the Head of the Charles, the Far Hills Hunt or both.
Don’t fight it people- just make sure you have a bottle of penicillin handy and know the way from Silver Hill to the Train Station in the pitch dark. The rest will take care of itself.
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