Editors of the (other) Times may want to consider an intervention: "The same perfectly reasonable hysteria has people all over town wondering if they should turn their bathrooms into panic rooms. I go into mine and scream from time to time, but I donít find it reassuring." [Neither do we, Tina, neither do we.]
Or at least a bit of incredulity: "A banker friend of mine on the East Side pays for two parking spaces in the garage under his apartment, so that when the next attack comes there will be no vehicle in front of him to impede his squealing getaway to his helicopter pad." [His building has self-service parking? Would that be the 60th St helicopter pad? the one you have to drive down a jammed Second Avenue to reach?]
But if she can keep lines like this coming: "to be at a fashion show at all is brunch at the apocalypse."
And she does sense a bit of 1914 in the air: "It was all vaguely Siegfried Sassoon era. Oh, Oh, Oh! Itís a Lovely War."
Maybe she can ask Gawker to take her on when/if Salon folds. It'd beat sitting between Monica Lewinsky and Donald Trump.
