First, it's Spitzer, and I had such high hopes for him.
Second, I just can't get over this $4300 an hour thing. I really can't.
And finally, the hotel that the dalliance allegedly happened in, is right here in my own city!
I love the monuments and memorials and museums, but I also love the tacky and tawdry. So tonite, on our way to what would become Sunday's new thing, my dear friend Karey took us by the Mayflower Hotel, so I could see it, and take pictures outside of it.
Emboldened by desert and drinks at Kramer's, another new thing, I posed with Karey, fiercely a la America's Next Top Model, outside the latest in a line of D.C. hotels to bring down a top political player.
I played serious Tourist for the night, only way geekier and without a fanny pack, and LOVED it. I have no shame. (But Spitzer sure does.)
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