Jan 11, 2009 12:15 PM
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Tue Feb 9
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Have über-socialite Tinsley Mortimer and her hilariously-named hedge fund hubby Topper called it quits? Proving it still has reason to exist, the New York Post's Page Six whispers that it might be so. Wicked!
Apparently the couple is separated, but not yet divorced. Tinsley got upset that Topper was flagrantly cheating on her with all manner of floozy and/or dizzy dame. A sad story. Luckily I was able to reach Tinsley and get an exclusive statement.
Oh, it's sad. I'm sad. I'm sad like the gargoyles on the big silver building, the way they frown down on everyone. Sometimes I'm walking under it and I remember that they're up there, looking at me. It makes me walk a little bit quicker. Now that Topper's gone it's just me in the house and sometimes I wander all of its rooms, my heels making their "click, click! click, click!" noises and my humming getting louder and louder. Sometimes I walk around for hours, until Guadalupe comes with some tea or a sleepy-time pill and and she says "sshhh, sshhh Meez Tinz. With all of jur walking. Ees too much." Then I fall asleep and when I wake up I'm in our big bed, that's shaped like a sleigh. That's what the decorator told me. He flicked his wrist and fiddled his glasses and he looked me right in the eye and said "Tinsley, child. This here is a damn sleigh bed." And I thought about Santa and all of the people up in the North Pole who ride sleighs and the bed always makes me feel cozy, like I'm going somewhere. But that morning it was just sort of empty feeling. And nothing else in the room looked quite right. Everything was sideways and upside down and I went out onto the veranda and I sang the song that Guadalupe taught me, because sometimes that makes me feel better. The song goes "Ohhhhh place where Guadalupe is from! / What a land you are! / Sometimes you're mountains / Other times, you're sand / Ohhhh country faraway! / What have you become? / Sometimes you're high schools / Other times you're storms." I love to sing her faraway song but it did not make me feel better that day and so I whispered, out on the big gray wind that swept up over the veranda and scattered the pigeons who were sleeping on the Peabodys' window ledge, I whispered "Topper." And then I said "I miss you." And it was cold so I went back inside and I found Guadalupe and she made me some hot chocolate and I sat in my favorite high stool, it's so high that I can kick my legs when I sit there and it reminds me of when Papa took me to a diner in Connecticut many years ago, when he was on business and he let me come with him. "Tinsley!" he said. "You can order anything you want from this diner counter." So I had a piece of blueberry pie with some gravy and ginger ale on the side and he watched with his strange Papa eyes and I kicked my legs and it was the happiest I've ever been. And that's how I felt that day. When Guadalupe made me hot chocolate and put a new braid in my hair, humming her faraway song. I missed people—because I always miss people, I think everyone misses people—but I also felt OK. When Guadalupe was asleep that night I walked out onto the veranda. There were so many lights still on in all the apartments. So many people still doing things like watching TV or knitting sweaters or just staring at the walls. And I said to the nighttime: "Goodbye, Topper. Goodbye!" And I blew kisses into the sky and the moon overhead made a little wink and I went back inside, where Guadalupe was snoring and the clocks were ticking and the kitty kat made little meow-meowings and when I tumbled down the stairs I was already fast asleep by the time I hit the bottom.
[Ed. note: Clearly this is not the actual Tinsley Mortimer. It's just a stupid thing that I do. It's a Sunday, so cut me some damn slack. The end.]
Send an email to Richard Lawson, the author of this post, at richardl@gawker.com.
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