I am told that Hillary Clinton has a decent shot at becoming the next President of the United States. She is the best qualified candidate for the job on account of being the wife of a former president. I’m sure she picked up some really useful tips on how to run the country.
There is precedence. Every country in the sub continent has had a woman leader; all of whom got there on account of their husband or father having gotten there first. Unlike her asian sisters Hillary won’t have to wait for her husband to get shot in order to inherit the mantle. I look forward to having Bill, his interns and his cigars in the White House again. A second coming if you will.
The problem with electing close relatives of former leaders is that they invariable screw things up pretty badly. Hillary’s Asian sisters and America’s own recent experience bear witness. However, I think Hillary will do okay as long as she remembers to delete her emails quickly. Or uses Snapchat instead. She must however first defeat the 70 year old tree hugger from her own party. Bernie Sanders has led a mostly uninteresting and ineffectual life, but is now going after her like a weaponised lentil. There is also another political party in the US but as far as I can tell all their candidates are shits.
I switched on the TV in my hotel room in New York City and was confronted with wall to wall coverage of an election that won’t take place for several months. I already know who’s going to win, so I switched off the TV and went upstairs looking for a drink.
I met BB, the Blonde Banker, at the Boom Boom bar at the top of the Standard High Line Hotel. The bar is actually now called the Top of the Standard which sounds a bit classier than Boom Boom. Boom Boom is too close to Bunga Bunga and that is pretty much what goes on here. It’s the kind of place one would expect Donald Trump to frequent – bling with a hint of sleaze. The bar has stunning views of both banks of the Hudson River. Inside it has high ceilings, curved walls, gold flecked carpets and a hint of the nautical about it. The boom boom girls (Chica Boom Booms?) were all outrageously beautiful and quite underdressed. Their gold lame dresses had bare backs that dipped just below the waistline. The whole dress ended about two inches below that. They had low scooped necklines in the front. It was impossible for the poor things to wear any undergarments as became evident when any one of them tried to walk. I wasn’t quite sure where to look. I looked to my bartender instead, a dashing chap who wore his Ray Bans indoors. He had me sample two local gins – Green Hook and Dorothy Parker, both distilled in Brooklyn. Our man had no idea who Dorothy Parker was, so utilizing my superior knowledge of useless bits of poetry I introduced him to this priceless ditty attributed to the said Ms Parker.
“I like to drink martinis, two at the very most
After three, I’m under the table
After four, I’m under the host!”
And this gem:
“You can take a whore to culture
But you can’t make her think!”
The gins were good. I had them both in martinis. The Green Hook is soft and light, reminiscent of a Plymouth style gin. The Dorothy Parker has more punch and is more complex. Try the first with a twist the second with an olive – the more potent flavors can stand up to the briny and strong flavours imbued by an olive.
BB insisted we visit the nightclub on the same floor of the hotel. At 3 o’clock on a Sunday afternoon it was heaving, a good looking crowd dancing, drinking and hanging out. We escaped the tumult and went upstairs to the roof garden which affords stunning views. BB was in raptures about the scene – “I love the male-female ratio here! And the guys are so well dressed and groomed and seriously good looking! I am totally telling all my girl friends about this place.” I bit my tongue as I observed said seriously good looking men hitting on each other. There is a hot tub here that opens in the warmer months. It probably gets quite steamy. If Trump were gay this would be his kind of place.