Skipper strips down to his boxer shorts and dives in the water like a cartoon character; with his knees bent at right angles sticking out to the sides. When he comes up for air, Mr. Big says, “Now I know why you can’t get laid.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Skipper asks.
“Have a cigar,” says Mr. Big.
Mr. Blatch in Love
Saturday, Halsey Neck Lane. Stanford Blatch is sitting by the pool, talking on the phone and watching his brother’s girlfriend, whom he hates, trying to read his New Yorker. “But you have to come out,” he says into the phone. “It’s ridiculous. What are you going to do? Sit in the city all weekend and work? Get on the seaplane. I’ll pay.
“Well, bring the manuscripts. You agents, you work too damn hard. Of course there’s plenty of room. I have the whole upstairs.”
Stanford hangs up, he walks over to his brother’s girlfriend. “Do you know Robert Morriskin?” When the girl looks at him blankly, he says, “I didn’t think so. He’s the hottest up-and-coming literary agent. He’s adorable.”
“Is he a writer?” she asks.
Skipper Blows It
Saturday night. Skipper goes to a barbecue at the home of his friends the Rappaports, a young couple who always seem to be on the verge of divorce. He gets drunk again, and tries the “drinking beer and lying on the bed” trick again with a girl named Cindy. It seems to be working, until he mentions that he thinks Jim Carrey is a genius.
“You know, I have a boyfriend,” she says.
Something Amazing Happens
Sunday night. Coerte Felske’s book party at Ted Fields’ house. Skipper hasn’t been invited, which pisses him off. Nevertheless, he has arranged to go to the party by offering to drive Stanford Blatch, whom he knows vaguely and who is invited everywhere, to the party.
The party is outside. Skipper notices that a young woman named Rebecca is paying a lot of attention to him. Rebecca’s short, with dark hair and large breasts, pretty—but not Skipper’s type. Works in public relations. Skipper and Rebecca decide they have to go to the bathroom, which means walking through a torchlit path snaking behind some bushes to the Porta Pottis. They head for some hedges. They start kissing. And then something amazing happens.
“I just really want to do this,” Rebecca says, and she kneels down and unzips his pants. Skipper is astounded. The whole act takes less than two minutes.
“You’re going to give me a ride home, aren’t you?” Rebecca says, nudging him.
“I can’t,” he says. “I promised I would give Stanford a ride home and you live in the opposite direction.”
Oh, Mr. Marvelous!
Further Lane. Mr. Marvelous from Bedford arrives just in time for dinner. His host, Charlie, has been divorced for five years. He’s invited some men and some women in their 30’s to early 40’s. Mr. Marvelous sits next to a woman named Sabrina: 32, breasts spilling out of a black Donna Karan tank top. Mr. Marvelous gets her drinks, is sympathetic about her ex-husband. At 11 o’clock, Sabrina says they have to go Stephen’s Talk House in Amagansett to meet some friends. Mr. Marvelous offers to drive her car, she might be a little drunk. They end up at Sabrina’s house at 3 in the morning.
At 5, Mr. Marvelous wakes and feels claustrophobic. Sabrina’s house is tiny. He can hear someone snoring on the couch just outside the bedroom door. “I’m going out of my mind,” he thinks.
Skipper is playing tennis when he hears his cellular phone ringing.
“Hi, honey,” Rebecca says. “Just wondering what you’re doing.”
“I’m in the middle of a tennis game,” Skipper says.
“Wanna come over after? I’d love to cook you dinner over here.”
“Uh, I can’t.”
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