THE SEARCH FOR MR. ADEQUATE
Part 67

By Susan Silver

This is going to be short and sweet … as I have to get out of here so I can breathe.

Last night the dust was everywhere … and the plastic they put up doesn’t help. Who knew that one little bathroom could cause the entire place to be declared a disaster area. Declared by me, that is. FEMA isn’t sure … of anything.

Every room is filled with things from the bathroom and bedroom which I thought I was protecting by moving them. No such luck.

And I didn’t use the fan, obviously as the dust would fly, so I was dripping wet (and not in a fun way) all night. The a.c. could have been put on, but I didn’t know that until this morning and the contractor told me.

“Oh yeah,” says he … ”it won’t spread the dust at all.” He’s Irish.

I am surrounded by men so the fact that the social life has slowed down to non-existent for some reason doesn’t even bother me. They are walking in and out all day and so much for living alone and liking it.

So, just a few quick notes for your perusal:

I’m in TV withdrawal, everything having ended. There are all sorts of obvious ripoffs coming for summer … dancers instead of singers, anyone talented instead of singers, contestants with talents now living together … etc. etc. etc.  None of which am I interested in. Except for a new season of Last Comic Standing. It is good to laugh and you will get some from these contestants, I promise you.   

There is also a new reality show about dating. Four semi-appealing women are coached by professionals … no no...not that kind. Anyway, it looks even less than semi appealing to me, I’ve gone on enough bad dates of my own.  If you watch it, let me know what the tricks are, won’t you?

But speaking of nice dates, the Cute Banker has disappeared on me. He called last week as the crew arrived and I said “let’s talk later, ok?” I don’t know what happened. But I know he reads this … which might be the problem … so we’ll see.

You can’t make this up, folks

There was an article about a cult which had some problems and it ended with this paragraph: “Members have committed suicide, including one man who hanged himself from a tree on commune property — and stayed there for days because he was mistaken for a Halloween decoration.”

I’m sorry, but that just struck me as funny. Please do not write me and say I am being disrespectful. Lately the PC patrol has been coming at me.

Oooh … got to go. The new bathroom Vanity (antique white with a pretty porcelain sink with flowers) has arrived and I want to stare at it. The theme of the bathroom is “garden,” with lattice work.

Later …

P.S. The column was not in last Friday as we had technical glitches, so now I can catch up with you on the finale of The Apprentice.

The right guy won. But prior to the decision, this spectacle … and you can’t call it anything less, went way over the top in its homage to The Donald.

Now, I find him and his adventures mildly amusing and one must ‘give props’ as they say to his promotional ability. But he marched into the screaming LA theater throng as though he were Caesar. And not Sid. It’s a bit too much now, even for his ego.

Once an interesting process of tasks, it has now deteriorated into one giant plug for commercial products and sort of an infomercial for Trump. Glad the season is over.

P.P.S. Cute Banker did call and we are making plans for something this week. Just keeping you, Dear Readers, up to date on my dates.

Respond to susan@newyorksocialdiary.com.