The day is here, and Thomas Barker assured me this morning that I will not have to use his body double tonight, which is good because there is no one who can quite be Thomas Barker.
The buzz about the birthday party has been building all week with locals re-arranging their work schedules, planning arrival times, and--of course--deciding what to wear. (Leopold, in particular, is wringing his hands about the appropriately extravagant outfit.) A genuinely nice guy, Thomas would command a loyal following naturally; the fact that he writes one of the most-read gossip (or as he like to refer to it: "entertainment") columns will assure the attendance of everyone else. Remember: the only thing worse than being talked about, is not being talked about.
The official plan calls for cocktails at The Palace between six and eight so that any necessary gossip can be quietly exchanged in a safe setting and, after Halo becomes too packed to move, to return and gossip about everyone we ran into. Yes, it's shallow, but it's what we do best.
2 Comments:
sometimes i hate having "depth".
Cave men would understand that social activity. "Did you see what the woman at the cave next door was wearing? What on earth was she thinking!?"
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