The New York Times, a former newspaper*, ran an article last week with the apparent goal of making average Americans feel bad for ultra-wealthy New Yorkers slumming out the pandemic in second homes. I am not making this up.
Some passages in the article are so mind-numbingly tone deaf one wonders how this ever made print. Emphasis in all this is mine.
“I’m working more than normal, and there is no downtime,” Ms. Smith said. “I used to leave the office and go to Starbucks for a vanilla latte, or just take a walk around the block. Now, if I want coffee I have to walk by my son into the kitchen, so there is no break between work and being a mom.”
Ms. Smith spends her days working from her bedroom — locking the door when she doesn’t want to be disturbed — while during the school year, Dylan attended classes on Zoom from the butler pantry.**
“We were there, looking up during a rainstorm, for example, and saw rain coming into the skylight, and thought, ‘Maybe now is a good time to replace it.’” So far, the construction has been going well. “There isn’t a lot of new construction right now, so the builders were wonderfully accessible.”
Cry me a fucking river. In between gasps of incredulity at this bullshit, I began thinking of various “quotes” the hack writing this piece might’ve missed when outlining the first draft. This led me to come up with a game:
SJ readers, your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to come up with a quote worthy of this insipid drivel. Feel free to leave any potential submissions below in the comments. To get everyone started, I set a lightning round timer and rattled off the following.
I used to dine nightly at restaurants. Now I can’t give my personal chef the day off.
At least it’s been easy finding someone to install our gold bidets.
Between our nanny, therapist, and personal trainer, all who get rapid COVID tests daily, we just don’t have time to work on our marriage. Parenting really takes a village!
We added WiFi to the bath house. It’s important the kids have a dedicated Zoom classroom.
My new office is a bedroom I retrofitted to look like a library. One shouldn’t skimp on professionalism when meeting with clients.
At least my children will dress in Chanel when they attend school twice per week. We’ll save the Calvin Klein for remote learning.
My palate can’t take another night without Michelin Star cuisine.
How do people live without at least a monthly off-Broadway viewing of “Freestyle Love Supreme?”
Sure, you could stream “Hamilton.” It’s just not the same experience unless you’ve shelled out a grand on tickets.
Our new favorite pizza spot doesn’t have locally sourced ingredients, but that’s a price you pay to avoid COVID infection.
Yes, connecting with the neighbors is great, but I miss invites to Gucci’s latest pop-up boutique.
We want to be open minded, but every meal away from Le CouCou*** just makes life feel like “Le PooPoo.”
Have at it, my friends. The best out of touch, ultra-wealthy whiner impression wins an “attaboy” from me. Hope your weekend is better than the week before, and remember: you’re never going to be as big of an asshole as the motherfuckers quoted in the Times.
*With apologies to Andrew Klavan, who I stole this line from because it’s just that damn good.
**I have never seen a “butler pantry” and have no idea what one is, but this sounds like the most frou-frou shit anyone could imagine.
***For the purposes of this exercise I asked my mean-ass editor to give me the name of a super expensive, pretentious NYC restaurant where rich people would go to be seen. I thought he made this up. Turns out he didn’t.