On this week's "Gossip Girl," the world's richest poor kid Dan Humphrey totally got a story published in the New Yorker! Whatever, we bet it was the Fiction issue, they'll let ANYONE in there! Later Serena gave him a nice present (a watch, so he'll be punctual meeting editors!) but he's such a fuckwad with class hang-ups that he can't accept it. But now we've "obtained" an excerpt of "his story" and we understand all.

The Williamsburg Kid

Walking up sun-dappled Bedford Avenue the other morning after a breakfast of eggs en cocotte and clotted cream, Tigert was hit by a cold breeze. Passing the intricate graffiti spraypainted on the industrial warehouses that surrounded his ramshackle loft, Tigert pondered how it was to live on the vanguard of youth in the shadow of darkness.


"Fuck," he muttered into the left collar of his vintage shirt. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

He ducked into St. Helen's Cafe. "Noisette, please."

A tattooed waitron looked at him with an admixture of disgust and befuddlement. One of the servers, the one with an Audubon print tattooed on his forearm, yanked violently at the handle of the espresso machine. "Rich kid," he muttered.

Tigert sipped his drink on the L train with the Times crossword puzzle. It was Thursday; Tigert was a Tuesday man.

He checked his watch but remembered he didn't have one.

He glanced up, his handsome face contorted in annoyance, his dimples sinister crevasses, his eyebrows—normally adorable caterpillars—hovered on his brow like threatening brown hairy rain clouds. A girl sat across from him. She wore a flower behind her left ear. Despite the autumnal frost, she wore blue gym shorts over blue tights.

"Excuse me, ma'am," Tigert leaned forward to ask. "Do you have the time?"

The girl looked up. "It's 9:30," she said in a heavy Australian accent. "Don't you have a watch?"

"Naw," Tigert bluffly replied, "watches are just for the bourgeoisie so they know how much longer to oppress the workers!"

The girl giggled into one hand. She looked away. When she looked back up, Tigert had sat down next to her.

Coyly she eyed him up and down. "Well," she said deliberately, "now I know how to find you. The man without a watch."