A Klieg Of His Own
Last night my houseguest and I were wandering up 2nd Avenue after dinner and ran into a wild scene around 76th street - searchlights, paparazzi, a red carpet, and a couple of hundred screaming girls. All of this outside was taking place in front of a small restaurant. I walked up and asked a few of the girls, "What's all this for? Who's coming?" Three of the girls screamed back in unison: "JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE!" I guess my face kind of fell when I said, "Oh," because the one of the girls said, "YOU know he's HOT!" Clocked.
We considered hanging around for a minute just to watch the bedlam, but a moment later a 60-ish man jogged by wearing sneakers, red lace panties, garters, and a camisole. Houseguest looked at me, "What is THAT all about?" I said, "Hmm, my guess is that his dom is punishing him. Something like, 'You are a bad, naughty boy. Now I want you to jog up 2nd Avenue and think about what you've done. Oh, and wear this.'" I love this town. And that's the guy that should have had the spotlight.