While the New York Observer is not a family newspaper, this is a family blog. So expect circumlocutions. This afternoon, Room 9 is all atitter over a pile of envelopes, left discreetly near the door. The contents were copies of a short, handwritten love letter apparently from a former City Hall bigwig, whom there’s no reason to name, to a woman who was also among the 300,000, as we think of the City payroll.
“Eat you later” was the valediction.
Now, I’m hoping nobody other than me writes about this. And I’m doing it only, of course, to make this high-minded point: This is Kenneth Starr’s fault. And blame Allan Jennings too.