There's that fable, "The Lion and the Mouse," where a hungry lion spares a mouse, and the mouse eventually repays him by freeing him from a trap. Tim Robbins saved some guy's life and was repaid with this Gawker Stalker.
Ha. So normally I would have texted this in the moment it happened but I really wanted to sit down and get it right. This afternoon I was hustling from my Christmas shopping in the East Village back to Queens. I was making good time getting to the Union Square station when I got caught at the corner of 13th and 3rd. As I stood there, I turned to my right and realized that the man standing next to me in a full-length black fur coat was, indeed, Tim Robbins. My unfiltered immediate reaction, "That really sucks about the split; you guys were great!" The color then drained from his face. To try and mitigate, "At least the press didn't have a chance to give you too much shit?" He grumbled back, "They will." Then he did a soccer mom save to alert me to the cab that was about to hit me. And that was my Christmas Eve with Susan Sarandon's old boytoy.
And so Tim Robbins, the massively fur-coated lion, saved our tipster's mouse of a life.
The moral of "The Lion and the Mouse" is, Little friends may prove great friends. But in the real world, little friends will just rat you out to the very website that is rumormongering about your old girlfriend and her possible Ping Pong-playing hipster lover. (Lest we be charged with Sexist Ageism™, we just want to make clear that "old" here is used in the sense of "former," and not "dating from the remote past," "showing the effects of time or use," or even "of a grayish or dusty color.")
The tangled ping pong tournament that is life goes thwacking along.