On Thursday night we did something that is unique only in the sense that goes on all year in Miami: The Roof Top Party. This one was on top of trendy Townhouse Hotel and honored those of us, and their companions, who volunteered to work on the committees of the Winter Party. As expected, it was delightful; the crowd was fun, the liquor free, the food flowing, and the evening weather just too perfect to describe.
I didn't know it, but at the very same time that Hindenburg of hot air, Mrs. Stuyvesant-Fish, was talking trash about me to former Palace owners, Doug and Henry at Twist. They called and invited me to a cookout today at their fabulous mansion and asked if I would mind if Mamie came, too. I assured them it was fine, because if there is one thing certain in life it is to keep your enemies close. I'll be leaving to pick her up shortly; I have a poison-tipped hatpin at the ready should she try something, but I wince at the thought of how hard I would have to push it in her to really matter.
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