If Eliot Spitzer had had to choose a venue at which to make his re-entry into society, he would presumably not have selected a former massage parlour in Chinatown on the Lower East Side of Manhattan.
But Mr Spitzer, who resigned as governor of New York state after getting caught up in a call girl scandal this spring, did not get the choice. Happy Ending, the former parlour in question, is now a sleek bar and it is where Slate, the online magazine was holding its seasonal drinks party.
Mr Spitzer this month week started to write a column for Slate as part of his comeback – he wrote last week about the Detroit bail-out – and so he showed up at the Slate party to be sociable.
The first I knew of it, since I was there last night, was when Mr Spitzer’s familiar face appeared, asking where he could find Jacob Weisberg, Slate Group’s editor-in-chief. I pointed through a crowd of people in his direction.
“Don’t worry,” Mr Spitzer replied cheerfully, starting to make his way through the crowd. “I’ve got sharp elbows.”
I went over afterwards to ask him how he was enjoying life as a columnist. “It sucks,” he said with a grin. “I used to be governor of New York”.
Mr Spitzer presumably knew he was walking into the lion’s den since he was surrounded by journalists, but he was unabashed. I rather admired his chutzpah and his willingness to turn up with just a sense of humour to protect him.
