It was very hot again yesterday, but dry and the beach was packed. I arrived late as I just can't take the early afternoon heat any longer.
I greeted our beloved Geraldine, who also looked a little heat-stricken. (I couldn't figure out if she had just come from a garden party where LSD punch was the refresher or if she was a very, very desperate housewife.)
I turned at one point to see Dr. Brad and Gabe on their knees, swearing allegiance of some sort to Tiffany--and entertainment icon to be sure--but still a bit surprising. I mean she's talented and breath-taking to watch, but she's no Mothra.
But my day really began with the arrival of Leopoldo, because little could he have known of my life-long passion for Italian Fascist fashion. The Italian Fascists might not have been the warriors they thought, and might not have been the most trustworthy of allies, but they had style. I especially had a fondness for the cavalry hats with the black feathers; daring, yet fashionable, but not necessary practical on the battlefield. He was coming right from work, and made the room gasp when he entered.
A popular man in his own right, he has become the darling of the group of vipers....I mean friends. And he particularly endeared himself more to me this morning when he commented on Mrs. Stuyvesant-Fish by saying, "I loved Mrs. Firestone-Bitch's shirt." My eyes grew so wide that they almost popped out, and he realized his mistake and apologized.
I simply replied, "You just made my day."