The Spitter, my muse

By some ironic twist of fate, i found myself sharing a cab with none other than The Spitter yesterday. Yes, just me and The Spitter of Park Avenue fame. We were both heading to the same Derby party and decided that splitting cab fare and not having to arrive solo was better than the alternative. I was skeptical but also a little thrilled to get to observe The Spitter some more.

And I must say, I think I have found my muse. The Spitter is an endless font of random, uncensored and hilarious anecdotes. While heading crosstown through the Park, he told me about his good fortune of getting to live in a sick apartment for 3 months without having to pay a dime of rent. Some family connection involving an older lady and a rich German investment banker (only in New York…and yet never to me…)

He explained how his neighbors were snooty and old and thought he made too much noise. He told me how the doorman knew him by name but that it was not a friendly relationship. Every night when The Spitter enters the building he says to the doorman, ‘Hey man, how’s it going?’ And every night the doorman replies, ‘Quiet’. Or some variation, like ‘It’s been a quiet night’ or  ’It’s pretty quiet around here’.

The Spitter said he knew this was a subtle message for him not disturb the peace.  His snooty neighbors must have passed on a message to the doorman to keep The Spitter in line.  Brilliantly snarky! Speaks volumes about New York. Ahh, man. You can’t make this shit up.

The rest of the afternoon involved many mint juleps and lots of men wearing pink and girls wearing ridiculous hats (including myself). My horse came in dead last but it only added to the irony of the day. LOVE IT!