By George, He Bought It! Stephanopoulos Spends $6.5 M. on UES

100490560 By George, He Bought It! Stephanopoulos Spends $6.5 M. on UESIn a 1994 Friends episode, Monica, Rachel and Phoebe, in their realistically rent-controlled, balconied Village apartment, receive G. Stephanopoulos‘ pizza order—mushroom, green pepper and onion—instead of their own low-fat crust, lots of cheese. Monica eagerly asks the frightened delivery boy if the mistaken orderer from across the street is a “small Mediterranean guy with curiously intelligent good looks?” The pizza guy nods, attesting that Mr. Stephanopoulos answered the door in a towel, sending the girls running to the balcony with binoculars to spy on their unsuspecting neighbor, at the time President Clinton’s senior adviser and de facto press secretary.

According to city records, it looks like these days the only people able to spy on George are residents and guests at the Carlyle and employees at the Rhinelander-Ralph Lauren. Mr. Stephanopoulos and wife, actress Alexandra Wentworth, purchased a full-floor abode at 30 East 72nd Street for $6.5 million from Corcoran agent Heather Sargent, who conveniently also had the listing—and no comment.

In the ensuing 16 years since his unofficial Friends‘ cameo, the small Mediterranean with curiously intelligent good looks has been very busy. He published a best-selling memoir of his exhausting tenure at the White House, married Ms. Wentworth, became a political analyst for ABC News and a correspondent for the network’s This Week, and most recently Mr. Stephanopoulos took over for Diane Sawyer as Good Morning America host, displacing the family—the couple have two daughters—to New York City from Washington, D.C.

The family’s new apartment is a prewar three-bedroom with a “gracious gallery,” walk-in closets and “sun-flooded” kitchen with double ovens and a six-burner stove.

Mr. Stephanopoulos once griped, “four years in the White House and two presidential campaigns is an awful long time. In politics, every year in the White House is like dog years, six years off your life.” One gets the impression that life at 30 East 72nd Street, with its wood-burning fireplace, wet bar and private elevator vestibule, may be considerably less rankling on the nerves.

cmalle@observer.com