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Morning Becomes Electra: Thingorjus Bathed in Grecian Sunlight
This is the tale of three children kissed by the gods of Mount Olympus. There is Keithias (Keith), the Hephaestion of Thingorjus, who is favoured with dark, brooding looks and large hands (in which one can often find hand-held video games and a ringing cell phone that plays the theme from "Beaches," much to the chagrin of his husband).
Next, we have the lovely, yet slightly dizzy and vertically challenged, Muffy Drexel St. Petersburg von Hohenloewe Barstool McSwigin. Muffy is a madcap heiress who never goes anywhere without a pack of ciggies, a deck of cards, a martini, or the phone number of a good divorce attorney. She has been known to wear Laplander reindeer-milking costumes for tea with her mother at the Union League. Rumor has it that she was asked to leave Bryn Mawr in her sophomore year--and in the middle of the night.
And finally, there is moi, Thingorjus, who hasn't eaten since 1972 and wears Brioni suits to the Acme to buy skim milk for his French bulldog, Jackie O. All of Fodorville hangs off my cheekbones, sweetie darling.
These three Muses of Antigone, Sycophants of Theseus, Prayer rugs of Lexus traveled to the ancient land of Greece, specifically to the magical places of Thessaloniki, Rodos, and Athina. And this is their story....................
We all boarded the Olympic flight from JFK without incident. Muffy wore a Bless halter dress, espadrilles from her last honeymoon on the Costa Smerelda, and carried a Fauchon tote that her housekeeper, Henny, normally uses to transport empty gin bottles out to the trash so the neighbors won't see.
Keith was dressed up in cargo shorts and an LL Bean polo, forever looking like a 7th-grader at sleep-away camp.
I wore a simple outfit from Zegna and brought along my Goyard St. Louis tote full of books, Nyquil, Advil, and chocolate milk mix for my 7th-grader husband. Unfortunately, they won't allow me to bring my Holland & Holland hunting rifle onto the plane.
There was hardly anyone in Business Class, save a lone man in an ill-fitting blue suit of unsavory origin and a woman with a baby. Muffy wanted to ask this woman where she got her baby, but I was adamant that not all women where like her sister-in-law, Wanda, and bought their children on the Russian black market. "Muffy, leave that poor woman alone," I hissed.
The Champagne flowed for Muffy and me, and the chocolate milk flowed for my Keith during our nine-hour flight to Athina. The food was unmemorable. I do remember some sort of grape leaf filled with cheese. I think it is called dolmades.
Our plane landed on time and we de-boarded to retrieve our Louis Vuitton trunks and Keith's Samsonite suitcase, which was purchased at Abraham and Strauss in 1967. WORD OF WARNING: DO NOT TRY TO PULL A 100-LB TRUNK OFF OF LUGGAGE CAROUSEL AFTER DRINKING 7 GLASSES OF CHAMPAGNE. I was so dizzy that I barely made it to the Aegean flight to Thessaloniki without numerous trips to the toilet.
Aegean Business Class to Thessaloniki was uneventful and very short. Unfortunately, you have to walk onto the plane from one of those buses, which is not pleasant in 105 F heat and you have plane exhaust blowing in your face. One of the FA's on the flight was very handsome and wore skin-tight blue pants. I think ALL of us liked that VERY much. "Keith, sweetie, keep your eyes on your magazine," I bellowed.
We arrived in Thessaloniki on time. (I must say I was very impressed with Aegean Air. I highly recommend them to anyone.) We got a taxi to our hotel in Thessaloniki--The Makedonia Palace. The fare was 13 euros.
The Makedonia Palace was a huge concrete-block monstrosity reminiscent of the architecture of some Soviet-satellite country. I half-expected Josef Tito to come waltzing out from the lobby. Our reception was VERY cool. You would get a better welcome at Castle Dracula, sweetie darling. We would later find out that most Thessalonians would have to look up the word "smile" in a dictionary.
Our rooms were very nice, however. The interior of the hotel did not match the exterior at all. All of our furniture was modern and visually appealing. The bathrooms were very large, with a nice assortment of bath products--the line was called Apivita. The only complaint was that the hallways were NOT air conditioned and we were hit in the face with a blast of hot air every time we opened our door.
The restaurants in this hotel were VERY EXPENSIVE. The lounge off of the lobby charged a whopping 14 euros for a HORRID martini. I ordered one and it arrived the color of seawater and sporting a--I am gagging--a a a a LIME!!!!!!!!!!!! I guess in Thessaloniki a dry martini means LOTS AND LOTS of dry vermouth. The Bloody Marys weren't any better because tomato juice in Greece is basically red water. To make up for it, however, the restaurant where breakfast is served had the most marvelous lox/cream cheese/crusty brown bread sandwich imaginable. It was covered with chopped onion and capers and was TDF!!!!!! The breakfast buffet was also wonderful, with many hot and cold items, including waffles, eggs, and chocolate cake!! The coffee was horrible, however. Why do they serve Nescafe in hotels in Greece???????????
The marble lobby was very large, cool, and had numerous seating areas where one could read the free English-language newspapers available. There were several restaurants and gift shops located in the lobby. The swimming pool was behind the hotel, along a stretch of promenade that bordered the port of Thessaloniki. The pool was very lovely, with many lounge chairs and poolside bar service.
It was a LONG hike into the city, however, especially in the hot sun. Luckily, passing the White Tower, the first thing you see when you leave the promenade to enter the city proper is a STARBUCKS. An ice-cold frappaccino is very welcome after a walk under the gaze of a merciless sun.
Much of this area of the city is devoted to shopping. The main shopping street is called "Tsimski." Some notable shops here are Longchamp, Guy Laroche, and Lacoste. There was a jewellery store called something like "Marina" that had very beautiful things. Muffy bought some earrings for a friend. This street leads to Aristotelous Sq. where you will find all kinds of restaurants, banks, book stores, and cheap jewellery stands. We ate a place called Aristotelous here--recommended by FlannerUK--and were delighted by the mezes and fish. The white wine, served in a pitcher, was kind of watery, but very refreshing.
We shopped for sunglasses. Sweetie darling, in Greece designer SUNGLASSES are the equivalent of a Marc Jacobs' bag in Manhattan. You better work, beotch!!!!!!! Throw the attitude on Tsimski with your Ferre or Richmond aviators.
The next day we headed for the Archaeological Museum to see all the beautiful gold jewellery culled from the grave in Macedonia. It was unbelievable--rings, ram-headed bracelets, a diadem that resembled a field of gold wildflowers. It was all so beautiful that you just couldn't take your eyes off of it. I thought Muffy was going to pry open a case and shove some baubles into her antique Fortuny bag. The Derveni Crater is also on display here. It depicts a maidens dancing with a satyr and should not be missed. (Muff said that the depiction reminded her of her ex-husband, Claus, whom she divorced when she caught him in Miami with several waitresses from the IHOP.)
We got into an argument with one of the guards because she said I crawled up on top of a display case to get a better view. She spoke very good English because she understood what "ugly shrew" meant. I guess we were lucky we weren't evicted.
We liked Thessaloniki, especially the Archaeological Museum. However, we were put off by the coldness of many of the people. The only people we saw who looked remotely happy were the teens who hung out at Starbucks. Even the maids at our hotel turned their heads when they saw us walking in the hallway. I wonder why this is because it is such a sharp contrast to the rest of Greece, especially a place like Rodos.
Next, off to Rodos................ (to be continued)
Morning Becomes Electra: Thingorjus Bathed in Grecian Sunlight
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I drink Washington Apple Martini's...what is a HORRID martini? Wonderful post Thingorjus. Heading to Santorini next month...looking forward to the rest of your journal.
MM, I know you've had a rough year with horrible personal tragedy. But I think this post shows the old (and I mean that in the kind way) Thingorjus is back in full regalia and rare form. The meds must be working.
Great post. Anxious for more.
Bravo, my friend- Let the fun begin!!
your Carine.
I believe that's "Mourning Becomes Electra," sweetie darling. I sat through an absolutely interminable version of it in San Francisco one week.
Did I recognize an allusion to "Absolutely Fabulous"?
I see you're back in form again. What a great trip report!
LMAO, loved the trip report, keep it coming.
Going to Greece in a couple of weeks, hope the weather is cooler by then.
Good writing makes fun reading !
Thanks and well done.
I'm hoping Muffy will find more mis-adventures to keep us laughing as she did in Turkey.
Looking forward to reading more.
I love love love this report! Thanks for brightening up my morning. More please.
Hi MM,
Wonderful beginning. I have been looking forward to this for weeks! I do hope to hear Miss Muffy had at least a few dalliances with the descendants of Greek gods
Um, hello???? Of course I know that Eugene O'Neill's play is entitled "Mourning Becomes Electra." I do have an English degree from Dartmouth. Blimey.
Stop being a retired English teacher for one moment, Peg.
I was making an allusion to the "morning light" bathing my gorgeous face.
More to come later on. I don't have time to write this minute as I am simply swamped with work.
I do actually have a job, sweetie darling.
Thingorjus
Ciao
A job??? A real job with regular people? That spoils my whole illusion about you. I thought you were only decorative? Sigh. Anyway, keep the report coming, it is better than a Danielle Steele novel!!!
Finally, the trip report I've been waiting for. marginal, you do not disappoint. Fabulous report, cannot wait for more.
Now this is what traveling is all about--fun!
I shall insist upon being called "Muffy" on our further adventures.
Byrd
well Byrd remember to live by the Dorothy Parker Martini code
LOL
Thanks for this fun and fantastical post thin.
We have a new champion! Best trip report ever. I'm the sort of Philistine who hauls his empty gin bottles to the curb in a paper sack, but it's good to see that somewhere in the world standards are being upheld. I can't wait to read more!
LOL Cigale--
I guess I'd try to stop with two..
(It is "After two I'd be under the table,
After three I'd be under the host", isn't it?)
Byrd
I like to have a martini
Two at the very most
Three I'm under the table
Four I'm under the host....
I don't even know what to say, except...
bookmarking
We've been awaiting your fabulous wit, John. Looking forward to the next installment!
LOL, this is just wonderful..and Danielle Steele only wishes she could write as well as this!
Happy to read another Thin Adventure
Scarlett
I want to hear more about the gorgeous FA with the skin-tight blue pants.
Prost Schatzi!
Thingorjus -
Thanks for the enjoyment.
What I wouldn't give for pictures of these intrepid travelers.....
Thingorjus-
You are too too much fun, and this report is simply the best thing I've seen around here in weeks and months!
Just what I needed after a difficult week. Thanks for lifting me out of the doldrums
I feel SOOOO much better now about our decision to purchase tickets on Aegean Air. The skin tight blue pants will more than make up for having to carry around the paper tickets.
More, please...don't leave us in suspense.
Sorry about my officiousness, Thingorjus. I guess I got my comeuppance.
SharonG wrote: "it is better than a Danielle Steele novel!!!"
Talk about being damned with faint praise!
Keep it up, mm, (interpret that how you will) and you might progress to comparison with Evelyn Waugh. Or even Oscar.
Ohhh, fun! It's been too long since we've had a story from you Thingorjus. Looking forward to more.
I'd say more like Jacqueline Susann, or even Jackie Collins. If you know what's good for you!
I'll say Thorne Smith.
What a wonderful writing style, Thingorjus, sweetie darling!
We are planning a trip to Greece next summer and this is the greatest introduction I could hope for. Looking forward to hearing the rest of your story.
Did anyone tell you that you are talented?
Thanks for the wonderful tale! I'm with the others - can't wait for more!
Good heavens, Thorne Smith. I haven't thought about him in ages. Yes, you're right. Good call, Cigalechanta.
I can see me as Marion traveling with George (thin) and Jackio playing that gin drinking dog. The Topper takes a trip is my favorite when they are on the Cote D'azur
Thanks for the stories Thinnie. Your title reminds me I saw MBE with the fab Helen Mirren not too many years ago. Looking forward to more of your trip report!
Maybe Noel Coward?
Add me to the list of those who adore you, and hang on your every word, sweetie darling! This report continues to have a healing effect on me, so please, please (I'm groveling now, I hate that!) continue.
BC
I second Noel Coward - it has that 30's melange of elegance and decadence.
More please............
Noel is too proper for this trio.
You'll read
The night before we left Thessaloniki, we packed our bags and went for a swim in the fabulous pool. Actually, Keith and I packed our bags. Muffy called the front desk and asked for the "butler" to come up and pack for her. "Muffy, Muffy," I said shaking my head, "This is not the Mandarin Oriental. There is no butler service here. You are going to pack your own clothes." She looked at me the way a man looks at his wife when she asks him to do a load of wash. Absolutely helpless.
Fortunately, Muffy works well under pressure and she found a chambermaid to come and pack for her. I think it cost her a carton of Marlboro cigs and bottle of Mitsouko.( Muffy initially tried to give the maid $50, but everyone knows that American money is worth less than toilet paper in Europe right now.)
After all that packing was taken care of, we lounged by the pool and had a couple bottles of wine that we bought in town. Some woman sitting next to us told us that a famous singer was performing at the hotel that night and we should go see her. I didn't want to take this woman's advice because she was sporting a babushka over a head of curlers. What, sweetie, darling, is Ethyl coming over to help you cut coupons whilst you plot ways to get Ricky to buy you an original Don Loper??????????? Please!
But, wait, it gets worse!!! There were a bunch of vodka salesmen staying at the hotel and some were at the pool. One "Stayin' Alive" John Travolta-type was wearing red Calvin Klein underwear as his bathing suit!!!!!!!! When my Keith first saw this man he exclaimed, "I had those exact same underpants when I was in high school. My mom used to buy them for me at Sam's Club." (It took us an hour to explain what Sam's Club was to Muffy. We told her it was like K-Mart, but without the class.)
As this man emerged from the pool, his thin body dripping with water, Muffy started to sing a little ditty:
"A tiskit
A tasket
That man's got
No basket."
Oh, Muffy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Later on that night we did go to the cocktail lounge in the hotel to listen to that famous singer. I think she was Portuguese or Brazilian or even from Mozambique. She was a heavy black woman with a very powerful voice who kind of reminded me of Miriam Makeba. For the life of me I can't remember her name, but she was very good.
A few Bulgarian men tried to buy Muffy drinks, but she was way out of their league. I told one that unless he had a castle in the Loire, he could forget about even lighting Muffy's cig.
The next morning, as we prepared to leave for the airport, Keith and I saw the pool lifeguard leave Muffy's room!!!!!!! What????? He looked like he was about 19!!!!!!!!! When questioned, Muffy admitted giving him her room number when she went to get ice at the pool. She couldn't remember his name, however. She said it was something like "Devin" or "Flanders"--- the kind of name a guy who worked at Abercrombie & Fitch would have.
"But, Muffy, this is Greece. I don't think "Devin" is a Greek name," I said haltingly. "Oh, I guess you are right," she replied, "I must be thinking of the pool boy I met at Betty Ford last year. It is kind of hard to keep them all separated."
They have pool boys at Betty Ford?
Pushing Muffy and Keith into a cab, we head for the Thessaloniki Airport. The airport is very small and it takes us all of 5 minutes to check in. We continue on to the Business Class Lounge to relax and wait for our flight to Rodos. The lounge is very nice, with leather couches, a bar with wine and spirits, Internet access, and food. On her way to the bar--I am hoping just for a cup of coffee--Muffy trips on her Louboutin shoes (the tie that goes around the ankle came loose) and she goes FLYING into the bar, knocking everything over. OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH CRASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The FA who mans the desk comes to Muffy's aid as Keith and I look on. We know not to interfere because we have seen Muffy scrape herself off of a Paris sewer, after an all-night drinking binge, and brush herself off to go shopping at Colette.
"Muffy, darling, you have cake on your shoe," I call out. Keith says, "Cake? They have cake? Why didn't anyone tell me they have cake?"
And people wonder why I contemplate putting a cow bell around my husband's neck when he leaves the house.
To be continued................
I see the resemblance to Noel and Evelyn. But I've always pictured you more like Eve Arden in "Our Miss Brooks".
You're not wearing Eve's bun and bangs hairdo,however, as a flirty flip is more your style. Oh,did you know the bun and bangs was so popular at one time, it became a party game on Fire Island?
The resemblance to Eve is in the arched eyebrow, followed by a tart little comment, and a long, withering, glance which you have honed to perfection.
We await your every word.
Please mm, yes do continue! Love you, love your shoes. And I absolutely adore your trip reports.
"Pool boys at Betty Ford?" My, my, dirty secrets are being dished out right and left. Keep up the high-fashioned smut!
Burning questions:
Why did Muffy really fall? Did she notice a filled "basket"?
Was there really any cake for poor Keith?
Will Ralph Fiennes and Muffy join the mile high club together?
Will they ever make it to Rhodos?
oh my! and i'm leaving for 2 weeks without a PC!
Hi,
Great report. Did you like Thessaloniki? I have been to Greece serveral times and have not thought about going to Thessaloniki. Despite the martini's is it worth a "look see"? I love Rhodos and am looking forward to hear about your adventures.
yipper
This is my first mm story. Please count me in as a new devotee, a true and faithful reader until the end.
Is the 'cake' reference a nod toward 'Withnail and I'?.
Class!
MM, reading your trip report is the highlight of my morning. Upon seeing your post, I went to grab my morning caffeine so I could sit back and enjoy.
I am hoping this was a very long trip...
"Within a Budding Grove" will have to wait. This thread has jumped straight to the top of my reading list. Bravo!
Mom amie, I spilled by café au lait all over the key board. Muffy never lets me down with her antics.
"When questioned, Muffy admitted giving him her room number when she went to get ice at the pool."
Hmmmm. So carrying out that Eugene O'Neill theme started in the first post, should this episode be called
"The Ice Man Cometh?"
Very, very clever stuff-sort of "Absolutely Fabulous" meets "The Gong Show" with a little SNL on the side...
Our Miss Brooks? God I haven't thought of that in years but it is perfect. I love Eve Arden. And Richard Crenna as the schoolboy. THis is too good. Keep it coming. Let them eat cake!
thingorgus!
you are the funniest writer!
you must tell us what you have published!
if not get busy - we are all lovin' your writing.
i want to know more about you, your life, your family.
i can see you doing a movie on your travels.
LOVE IT!!!!!!!!!!!
Hysterically Funny!
bookmarking!
Thin
Fabulous trip report! Please continue.
Muffy rocks! Who knew they had pool boys at Betty Ford?
Johanna
hmmm, think I'll check myself in
Mrs Slocum
You cannot imagine the pictures I have in my mind to go with story.
I also this is going to be a long trip.
Where can I find traveling companions like this?
So, as Muffy is picking herself up and straightening her Lanvin skirt and wiping the cake off of her stained shoes ("I'll just give these to Henny. She can wear them when she takes the bus to Atlantic City to play the slots."), in walks a woman who eerily resembles Ariana Huffington. There is an exchange of looks between the woman and Muffy and I can tell the fireworks are going to go off at any second. It is like putting a cat and a Chihuahua in the same cage. The woman is dressed in a red and white sheath dress and carries a white Dior bag. She is a bottle blonde of about 48 years of age. She is thin and wears small jewellery. Her hands and feet are meticulously manicured, and she show a sign of her social class in that her hands display clear nail polish whilst her toenails are painted red (lower class women paint their fingernails and toenails the same color; they actually teach you about this distinction at Miss Porter's).
Isabella Blow meets Princess Michael of Kent.
Luckily, "Ariana's" husband arrives and her attention is diverted. Muffy comes and takes her place on a leather sofa next to me whilst Keith plays with the computer. Muffy and Ariana glare at each other. Thankfully, Ariana and her husband are heading to Athens so we won't be on the same airplane. Major war alleviated, sweetie darling.
The flight to Rodos is uneventful, save Keith eating all three of our finger sandwiches handed out by yet another handsome flight attendant. We arrive in Rodos and venture forth to our hotel, the Rodos Park Hotel, just outside the walls of the Old Town. The taxi fare is 17 euros to the hotel from the airport.
We are greeted by the wonderfully efficient and talented Despina. She makes our stay very pleasant. Our rooms face the pool and are newly remodeled. They aren't as big as the rooms at the Makedonia Palace, but they are very nice and remind me of a room display done up by IKEA. Everything is blonde wood and clean lines. There are hardwood floors with scatter rugs. The bathrooms are small but new. The bath products are plentiful, but aren't the same quality as the products at the Makedonia Palace. However, the Rodos Park has much nicer grounds (bougainvillea-covered walls) and the hotel is much smaller and has a much more intimate feeling. The pool is fabulous, with fountains, an outdoor restaurant/bar, and lounge chairs with umbrellas.
We head to the Old Town of Rodos through the d' Amboise Gate, which is just a 5-minute walk from our hotel. Walking through the gate, you feel as you are stepping back in time and are transported to a medieval city. The main shopping street is Socratous where you will find jewellery stores, leather shops, and the like. We wander around looking for ilias Lalaounis, the great Greek goldsmith. The shop is somewhere down one of these winding, narrow lanes.
Everyone is looking at Muffy because many ordinary Germans and French (most of the tourists on Rodos) are not used to seeing a woman in green Nina Ricci pumps and Nanette Lepore baby doll dress totter around cobblestone streets shopping for postcards.
All the salesmen who stand outside the jewellery stores hawking their goods just LOVE Muffy. Most of them wink at her and invite her inside their shops to show her their merchandise. Muffy spots one young man outside of a shop that sells glass ornaments and wonders if he is a waiter. He is wearing skin-tight white pants.
"A waiter, Muffy?" I muse. "Why a waiter????"
"Because he is carrying a very large pepper mill around with him," she replies with a saucy smile.
To be continued...........
Marvelous!
(Note to self: enroll immediately in Miss Porter's nail and toe polish etiquette class.)
Bravo, Thin, bravo. Looking very forward to the next installment. Love the Nina Ricci shoes... Please don't leave out *any* of the shoe details and the shoe whore in me will love it.
Funny, I was just thinking the same thing : Muffy = Isabella Blow (RIP)
Mathieu, did you see the coverage of her funeral. Amazing, like a queen's
Blow was a fashion stylist and muse who "discovered" many designers and models and worked for the Tatler, Vogue and wore outrageous hats.
Bill Cunningham, the photographer of fashion for the NY Times loved taking photos of her.
MM, your reports are not only amusing but also educational, i.e. the nail polish scenario. Fingernails subdued, toenails wild.
I love Muffy's outfits. But you've mentioned nothing about yourself and what you're wearing! Sweetie, honey, do tell!
Cigale, I did not.
I don't mormally follow these things at all, but I've always been captivated by her sense of style and outrageousness. She was always the proverbial sunflower in a field of dandelions, and I was sad to hear of her demise.
Most of all, I've always admired the stylish creativity of Philip Treacy, and she was his muse.
Maybe Muffy should meet up with Treacy.
And Anna Piaggi!!! Karl's muse
I hate the breaks in the story -- it is like a long commercial but you don't know when the next installment will appear!!
He really is working!
i know - i know (i meant it as a complement!)
as i tell my kids, patience is a virtue.
Joy of joys, I've finally done something right. I never put anything but clear polish on my fingernails but my toenails are always some shade of red. I have arrived! Too bad my feet are usually clad in Birkies. Damn, I can never get the whole look down.
It is a pleasure to read a whimsical, literate, unapologetic, slightly intoxicated, singular vision of another’s visit. It is a stream of consciousness seemingly with the intent of becoming unconscious. Thank you.
Oh, I don't know. I think I'd like to see a meeting between say, Idaho Jaane and Muffy . . .
Hey Man, It appears instead of being marginal, you are the Damien Hirst of fodorville. Not in the sense of being partial to platinum art over whatever, but because of so many responses to every entry.
Rather witty posts but not unexpected from someone who wears Brioni to buy skim milk.
ROFL!! Damien Hirst!! I don't think so. His esthetics are not bizarre.
If fact he'd trade the latest work, that diamond skull with REAL teeth for two antique Goyard trunks, and whatever his sweet heart desires.
Definitely Evelyn Waugh!
"green Nina Ricci pumps and Nanette Lepore baby doll dress totter around cobblestone streets shopping for postcards."
FABULOUS!!
Bravo darlin ! now get back to posting, more ! more!
What a wonderful post!! Looking forward to much more! Was Muffy disappointed by the lack of pool boys at The Rodos Park?
Wait a minute! I just reread the first installment...I thought I was the only person who'd ever left Bryn Mawr in the middle of the night in sophomore year!
I hope Muffy didn't make the same mistake I did and think the Paoli Local was running that time of night. I had to call my boyfriend at Princeton and get him to pick me and my dog up before dawn broke.
Thin-
As always, enjoying your tales. More please. Your dear hubbie sounds much like mine. Forever fifteen.
Please tell me there are photos somewhere to go along with this.
As someone I once knew used to say,
"Love you like my luggage..."
Alright...you know it's an entertaining trip report when you are emailing it to your husband at work and he's looking forward to the next installment.
BTW - My DH personally was bowled over with the lime in the martini comment. Being a martini aficionado he can relate.
Looking forward to more!
Hi Thingorjus,
New fan! Love every installment. Please keep them coming...mmmmm Muffy madcap adventures. Yipeee
Hi Thin--Please tell me you're an E.F. Benson fan. If not, you must start with volume 5 of the Make Way for Lucia books. Actually, that goes for all devotees of this thread. It will make for a pleasant diversion while our author finishes purchasing blackamoors for his Park Avenue clientess...or whatever he does. The wait is excruciating.
By the way, Thin, my Truman Capote should have a play-date with your Jackie O. Surely you and Muffy make it to Palm Beach from time to time...
This is my first MM report, what fun! I'll have to have a look for some of the old ones.
BTW, the staff in my Thessaloniki hotel were quite remarkably helpful, but it didn't come with luxuries like a swimming pool.
This is such brilliant, fresh writing! Fodors should hire your trio to write destination guides. They'd be an immediate hit, judging from the number of responses you've received for this post!
You will all have to wait until Monday night for the next installment because I am very busy right now. Today, I have to do my grocery shopping and mow the lawn.
I am absolutely thrilled by the Damien Hirst comment because he is a friend of my Aunt Judith. I had lunch with the two of them about 4 years ago at the Groucho Club in London. I am fascinated by Mr. Hirst and think he is the most provacative artist of the last 10 years or so, beside Jeff Koons and Mathew Barney. Thanks for the compliment--I think. I would LOVE to have one of his shark tanks on my front lawn.
St. Cirq, I always had a feeling you were a Bryn Mawr girl. I grew up in Paoli, you know.
Thin
Well good, for it was a real struggle between choosing Hirst and Martin Margiela.
If a Brioni to buy skim milk, what for grocery shopping or lawn mowing? Okay, since I am a man, just skip the latter.
MM-say it ain't so-MOWING the lawn?! Surely you mean sitting with Jackie O while you supervise someone mowing the lawn...
Waiting til Monday.
Boy, did I guess you wrong, Thin!!!
I couldn't afford the diamond skull but some faux teeth are on the way
Poor Thin has no choice. Muffy's off with the gardener... again!
schuler;
ROF-LOL!!!
So, sweetie darling, Mr. Rubirosa invited Muffy dearest into his lair.....I mean shop to have a look-see. She emerged a few minutes later to say that we should go "ahead without me.......I will catch up with you later at the hotel." How much later, I ask. She looks the pepper mill over and says, "I think I will need exactly one hour."
I am dubious about Muffy walking back to our hotel--uphill no less--in those Nina Ricci pumps.
"Muffy, sweetie, there is no car and driver to pick you up here. No cars in the Old Town, remember?" But, she assures me that she will make it back to the hotel even if all the shop keeps in Rodos have to carry her up that hill. And I am sure they would if she asked.
Keith and I meander through the streets of the Old Town in search of a pair of silver earrings for my secretary, Christine, and some sponges for his Aunt Gert, who thinks sea sponges have the power to remove cellulite accumulated over the years by a steady diet of Fanta and Cheez Whiz on Ritz crackers.
I am wearing sand-colored Rykiel Homme trousers and a black linen shirt from Ted Baker, by the way. Keith is wearing some get up from Kohl's. I am sure he purchased it about 10 years ago with his bar mitzvah money. If he was wearing a kippa he would look like he was going to pick dates on a kibbutz. Yes, he looks like a slob, but at least he is my slob and I know where he is every night passed out on the couch with a Hot Pockets Pepperoni and Cheese hangover.
After our purchases, we decide to head back to our hotel for a swim in the pool. We will continue our search tomorrow for ilias Lalaounis because it is getting beastly hot. We take a long walk back to our hotel, passing a bathing suit shop along the way. There is a "lady" mannequin on display wearing a bikini. She is right on the pavement. Keith and I start laughing and take her picture because she is tricked up like the Whore of Babylon. A little British boy walking by sees me standing next to this mannequin whilst Keith takes my picture. I put my arm around her shoulder for another photo.
The little Brit says out loud to the woman holding his hand, "Mummy, is that man that lady's husband?" Without missing a beat the woman looks me up and down and says, "I don't think that man is the marrying sort."
To be continued..........
To be continued.............
"Yes, he looks like a slob, but at least he is my slob and I know where he is every night passed out on the couch with a Hot Pockets Pepperoni and Cheese hangover."
Love it!! More please.....
I'm casting my mental movie as I read this...mmmmmmmm... who would be whom? (or is it whom would be who?)
This is great!
Suzie - i was imagining Robin Williams as Thingorgus, Debra Messing as Muffy, and Keith - hmm not sure.
Please sir, may I have some more?
She said with her empty gruel bowl held high.
Hush your mouth! Although I love Robin Williams, I figure someone tall, stylish and thin to play Thingorjus. Remember, Thin's not been eating since the 1970s.
So Robin Williams is out -- but thin, stylish, ... hmm .. what age range?
Rupert Everett
good choice !
Jeremy Irons ????
Aaron Ackroyd? Swoon.....
Oh dear, I meant Aaron Eckhart...that's what comes from having just watched the SNL retrospective...ay yi yi!
Well Aaron does look good in a speedo
Amazing no one has suggested Robert Redford yet! Noting the little brit's mom's comment, I pick Hank Azaria but with much better and more! clothes on than in Bird Cage.
You need to pay attention, boys & girls -- MM has cast himself: ------------------------------------------------------------
Author: marginal_margiela
Date: 03/15/2007, 06:05 pm
On a good day: Simon Cowell
On a bad day: Princess Margaret
We can assume Greece counted as good days.
Ah thank ahv'd dahd and gawn to heaven!
Any mention of Izzy Blow (RIP) and Princess Michael of Kent makes me sit up and take notice. Now you're talkin', girlfriend!
I can see the Simon Cowell/Princess Margaret link. They both have a take no prisoners look in their eyes and a crocodilian manner. I feel so sorry for you on your P. Margaret days. Bad hat, hair, dress, and shoes, and an expression that implies someone nearby has broken wind following a hearty meal of egg salad . Even Midol and martinis can't perk up a day like that.
Dahling, you must play your inimitable self in the movie,as you are a star among mortals.
Keith will probably be begging you to consider Robin Williams for the part. Isn't Patch Adams one of Keith's favorite 6 hankie movies? You must remind him that altho Robin will undoubtedly be thinner following a vigorous waxing, he is still not right for the part.
I hope P.Michael of Kent will have a cameo appearance. Every movie needs a fist fight and a car chase. I'm sure you can film this in one take. All Muffy has to say is "Pity about Nether Lympiatt. Was the garage sale a success?"
Eagerly awaiting more travel news. Do write soon.
au reservoir,
specs
Back at the hotel, Keith and I went to our room to suit up for a few hours of relaxation at the pool. Keith wore board shorts that he found behind the dumpster of Restoration Hardware on Main St. in Manayunk, and I chose French-cut bathing trunks from John Varvatos. I put our beach towels---vintage Hermes for me, Walgreen's for Keith--into my Goyard St. Louis tote and we headed down to the pool area. To our surprise the pool was very crowded. The hotel was so quiet we didn't think there were many guests. We finally found two free lounge chairs in the shade, as Keith turns pink as salmon in direct sunlight.
Well, we weren't at the pool very long before we began to notice something disconcerting Many of the women were topless. Now, we have traveled all over the world and this normally wouldn't bother us. But, EGADS, some of these women looked like Roseann Barr in a sumo diaper. There was a German woman (she was talking loudly to her husband, saying, "Ja Ja, sprecchingzingitsignissenbrachtsmangunissen.") sitting directly across the pool from us who had huge, pendulous breasts. I thought for a minute that she was holding two watermelons in brown paper bags. Worst of all, she was smiling at us!!!!!!! Was she going to cut up those melons and invite us over for some lunch??????????
Now, sweetie darling, I don't have a weak stomach, having been weaned on gin as an infant. I also developed a cast-iron stomach from drinking rubbing alcohol in high school. But, when that German lady stood up and decided to jump into the pool I though I was going to hurl.
"Keith," I stammered, "I am not going into that pool until the staff has sterilized it with an atomic bomb blast."
"No kidding," said Keith. "What is this place? Youbube.com? I mean you see a lot of sagging breasts at places in the Catskills, but at least they are covered up with velour or something. I think I going to go blind."
Just when we thought it couldn't get any more harrowing, down a flight of steps comes BIG BIRD. This is the moniker that Keith and I give to a German man of about 40 years of age. He is tall and has an "afro" of corkscrew curls. He has been poured into a yellow Speedo and has........has........how shall I put it........a "woody." He comes and sits next to a pretty, petite blonde woman of about 35. She kind of resembles Linda Day George (remember her?). She is reading--get this--The Devil Wears Prada!!!!!!! We start calling her "Schotzi." Big Bird likes to lie on top of her whilst she is reading. He then gets up and walks around and shows everyone some wood. This goes on for about an hour. Really, it is like watching a 70's soft porno starring David Soul.
The British couple sitting near us are starting to stir. The wife makes a comment to her husband about Big Bird. It seems they don't have anything like this in the West Midlands. How appalling!
Muffy finally makes her entrance after being gone for hours. She has changed into her bathing attire--a Ghost maillot that is at least three seasons old. Everyone turns to look. Even the women lying on their stomachs get up to catch a glimpse of Muffy, thereby exposing more breasts than a Russ Myer film. Muffy then goes around and speaks to everyone around the pool. Keith and I wonder what she is up to. It is then that we realize that Muffy is looking for bridge partners. Muffy has quite a few addictions and one of them is bridge. She has played with Omar Shariff and Lenore Annenberg. She is so good and so sought after as a partner that that is the only reason that she hasn't been thrown out of the Union League for passing out in the elevator 16 times. 7 is supposed to be the lifetime limit.
Muffy doesn't find any bridge partners, but she does find a man to play pinochle with her for money. Schotzi, by the way, is glaring at Muffy. Maybe she doesn't like the competition? She doesn't have to worry because Muffy would never be interested in someone like BB. As she would say, "He has a flair for the obvious."
Later on we all leave the pool to get dressed for dinner. On our way back to the hotel, Keith and I spot a cute little restaurant just down the street. It is called "Wonder Bar," and it on El Venizolou Street. We decide to go there for a relaxing meal. We get all dressed up in our Sunday best......well, not Sunday best because Keith is a Jew and Muffy and I haven't been to church since the Nixon administration. But, we look pretty damn good! I wear gray Corneliani trousers with a silk Theory shirt. Muffy is attired in an ice-blue Hussein Chalayan dress with cute Le Silla peek-toe pumps. She carries a Brian Atwood clutch. Keith is decked out in his finest Land's End fisherman pants and Safety First inflatable life jacket with attached shirt.
We arrive at Wonder Bar at around 9 PM. It is packed. Luckily there is a table in the back garden available. Everyone stares at us as we take our table because the place seems to be the haunt of Scandinavian backpackers and day workers. At one table, young women have plastic butterflies in their hair that would even be frowned upon at Claire's Boutique in the Passaic Mall. A young guy sitting near us can't take his eyes off of my Ferragamo shoes. Surely they have Ferragamo in Helsinki? No? Well, from the looks of his feet they certainly have toe fungus, which I can spot because he is wearing Birkinstock's.......Oh, wait......he must have bought them at the Monistiraki Flea Market in Athens because they actually say "Birkinstick."
Our waitress, a toothy blonde Amazon who could eat an apple through a picket fence....Willlllllburrrrrrrrr!!, comes over to give us cushions for our chairs. No one else has cushions, but with this crowd the owner is probably fearful that many of his clientele would be using them for tonight's bedding. I think her name is Oggi, but it is hard to understand her. Oggi takes our order and INSISTS we try the "marinated squids." So we do. They are tasty but chewy. I order swordfish on a bed of "cheese" polenta. The polenta is good, and the swordfish is good, but NOT TOGETHER. Cheese does not belong near fish. Only the crazy Swiss would do a mackerel fondue! Keith eats anything you put in front of him so he is happy with eating all of the bread and spread that is on the table. (Please, Keith, two baskets are enough already. Love handles will lead to divorce!!!!!) Muffy smokes half a pack of cigarettes and drinks two pitchers of wine. She WILL NOT SAY ONE WORD about the Pepper Mill no matter how hard I pry. We pay the bill and leave. Muffy gives Oggi 20 euros, hoping she will use it to see an orthodontist. Everyone turns and gapes as we leave. My Gucci, they look as if they are watching a car accident.
To be continued..........
Hoping Muffy gets back safely to the hotel. Wonder what she's doing with the pepper shaker.
This latest report is the funniest writing I have ever read on Fodors! I would use ROFLOL but I really don't like rolling on floors just to laugh, whether loudly or quietly, so I won't.
Dude, You are VERY good at this.
I'm laughing so hard I think the neighbors may call the police! Thank you so much for this Labor Day treat! Your description of the pool scene at The Rodos Park is hysterical. One day we had lunch poolside with my husband's Greek client, a very well-tailored businesswoman. Surveying the scene, she said, "I see we have reached a new low."
I can just see Big Bird.....
Ew...I don't want to see Big Bird...
I knew you would get the scene, Weadles, having been there yourself.
I am so ticked off because I hit the preview button and edited this section of my trip report. I spent 10 minutes editing and making changes, yet
the original, unedited report was posted!!!!!!!!!!!
Hmmm...any chance Muffy was asked to leave Notre Dame Academy as well? She could easily be the "Big Sister" I originally had in '81 before I was switched to Dave Roberts' kid.
Muffy was only 8 years old in 1981.
Who is Dave Roberts?
Marginal,
The unedited version is absolutely fabulous. The only thing sobering me up tonight after reading your post is the pull of gravity. Muffy was only eight-years-old in 1981?? There is no God!
How old did you think we all were? I just turned 38 in July. Keith is 36. Muffy is my cousin, not my aunt.
Thingorjus
What a bunch of goofs!
BM so I can read all of it when I have time.
With all those watermelons, no wonder you needed a wonderbra.
wonder bar.
Marginal,
I didn't think you were old. But I didn't think I was that old, either, until I read your post!
Only my liver is old, sweetie darling.
I haven't even gotten to the good stuff yet. Wait until you read about Muffy inviting shop keeps to my house on Nantucket in order to get a discount!
And we haven't even touched upon Athens and the fat ladies in the taxi.
Thin
I guess you'd better set some extra plates at Thanksgiving! And get those whale pants ready, too, in case the shopkeeps' luggage is lost on the way over.
Can't wait for the rest...
Just loving your posts, Thin. Eagerly awaiting more...
Thin, no matter how old you are or will be, you will never be old.
Now Keith , on the other hand.... tell him about the Scientific studies on aging and the indulgence of Hot Pockets...else you and I will have the same problem, always being the Younger spouse
Come to think of it, she was called Buffy.
As for Dave, he'll be broadcasting the Delaware Valley's 10 day exclusive Accuweather forecast in about 5 minutes on Action News.
I've always pictured thin looking like Ed Wood.
Sorry, sweetie, but I watch Glen Shwartz.
Ed Wood? Get real.
I've said it before: on a good day I resemble Simon Cowell; on a bad day, Princess Margaret.
marginal margiela wrote: "I've said it before: on a good day I resemble Simon Cowell; on a bad day, Princess Margaret."
That's not a wide range unless one takes account of the fact that Princess Margaret is dead.
Glen Schwartz looks a little like Pee Wee Herman!
hey thin... I believe you were quoted in the Italy 2008 guide.
http://www.fodors.com/wire/archives/002688.cfm
Bookmarking....got to read this post later.
Thin: Do you ever watch the show "Flipping Out"?
I love that Fodor's turned "youbube.com" into a clickable link -- and it's for sale! Ooh, I want to see the German lady.
If I was quoted in the Italy guide it had better be for Farmacia Santa Maria Novella in Florence or for Hotel Quisisana on Capri. I will NOT be quoted for some common pizza place in Rome!!!!!!!!
People have told me that I remind them of Jeff(?)on Flipping Out because I am such a control freak. I never leave things to others that I can do better myself. Others always disappoint me.
THIN
I love Flipping Out Jeff and the rest of his staff too. He is a clever chap and controlling too but with heart.
Je suis Control Freak, too, and enjoy Jeff, as he reminds me of the way I run my business...but I love all the people who work for me dearly and would go to bat for them in a heartbeat if they needed it. I'm just, um, a bit of a perfectionist, ya know?
Just loving this report...anticipating the next installment!
Topping and anxiously awaiting the next installment
And they wonder why Gay men were put in charge of running Heaven <G>.
Haha... I have a VERY distinct feeling you were going to say that Thin... I pictured you as Jeff (nice picture too)... Now, please continue to regale us with your adventures!
I will give you another installment tonight. I haven't been able to type because I sliced my pinky open with a knife on Tuesday. Boy, did that hurt.
Please, Dukey, I don't want to run Heaven; that would bore me. I want to run Hell.
Thingorjus
Oh, Dukey. I just got it!!! You were making a reference to club Heaven in London. Blimey.
>>"I don't want to run Heaven; that would bore me. I want to run Hell."<<
I can see it now... Thin on a throne, sentencing fashion offenders to all sorts of fantastic punishment. ROTFL!! I love it!
Rough play will do that to you, Thin...
After we leave the restaurant of shame, we head back up the hill to our hotel. Thank Helmut Lang, it is only half a block because Muffy is SMASHED. She can hardly walk. "Keith, darling," I say, "Do you think we should call a taxi for Muffy on her mobile?" Keith is nonplussed and thinks we can make the 72 steps without George the taxi driver. I guess it will be OK because I have seen Muffy drunk on Krug fighting with UES bitches over Frette sheets on sale at ABC Carpet and Home. A hill should be no problem. Maybe?
Finally, we are back at the front door of our lovely hotel and the scent of jasmine and bougainvillea fill our nostrils. The groundskeeper is standing by the gate to the pool smoking a cigarette. Muffy goes over to talk to him, over our protests. "Muffy, sweetie," I hiss, "it is time for bed for you." She throws her Brian Atwood clutch at me and tells me to "piss off." She then grabs the groundskeeper by the buttocks and leads him into the pool area. (You've spotted him, Weadles. He was thin, dark, curly black hair. He always wore a gray sweat shirt.) Keith and I are absolutely appalled and head up to our room. A strange man with Peter Lorre eyes is manning the front desk. He has glasses and is talking on the telephone (I will later have a screaming match with him, that is why I am mentioning him at all.)
That night the most HORRIBLE thing happened. Keith woke up with a headache at 2 AM. He wanted some Tylenol and I thought I handed him two Tylenol, but what I accidentally gave him was Hydrocodone, a strong narcotic. You are only supposed to take one, but TWO?????? Poor Keith had the shakes and was throwing up all night. (At first, I thought Oggi had poisoned him because Muffy was bitchy towards her and she was jealous of Muffy's porcelain veneers.) At breakfast, I made the maid go and get me some ginger ale at the supermarket. (Don't worry, I paid her 30E. I am not cheap, sweetie darling.) He could hardly sit up.
It was then that I noticed Muffy sleeping in the shrubbery out near the pool. (The French doors of the restaurant face the pool.) "Jesus H. Balenciaga," I screamed, "what do I have to do to have a normal morning in this world????????" I got up and roused Muffy from yet another drunken stupor.
"Muffy," I pleaded, "please pull your dress down. You look like a hooker after the Republican National Convention." People in the restaurant were beginning to stare. I haven't been that embarrassed since I asked a clerk at Walmart if they had a personal shopper to help me find glue. Muffy, of course, just rolled over and went back to sleep. The manager now became involved and I just murmured something about diabetes and having too much cake at dinner. Thankfully, a hotel with a swimming pool that resembles a porno set doesn't get its feathers ruffled too easily. The manager was VERY nice about everything, indeed.
Keith and I put Muffy to bed and went looking for the elusive ilias Lalaounis. We both traipsed down the Street of Knights with our map and bottles of ginger ale in tow. Eureka!! We found it. In a little cave of a place, near the Archaeological Museum, was the Holy Grail of Goldsmiths--ilias Lalaounis. Everything twinkled and sparkled; it as like Christmas for the jet set. We entered and were immediately embraced by Rita Soriano, the manager. She was rail thin and had a blonde Farah Fawcett hairdo. (She so reminded me of my friend, Maryann, a former fur model for Bonwit Teller). Rita knew we wanted to buy, so she pulled out all the stops. She was as ruthless as a used car salesman from Wayne, NJ. She roped me in with a beautiful 18K gold ring that resembled a shell. (Mr. Lalaounis' designs usually figure into the mythology and history of the Greek culture.)
"You like, yes?" Rita purred like Cat Woman from a Batman episode. "I know that you want it. Look how beautiful it looks on your finger. Look at it in the mirror!" It was like offering Botox to John Kerry. I just couldn't resist.
Keith, of course, just sat there like a lump on a log. He asked if they sold swords or hunting knives. Hello? Going to butcher a deer this afternoon, sweetie darling?
After Rita maxed out my credit card, we told her we would be back with our friend, Muffy. "She will be your match, Rita," I challenged. We all said our goodbyes. Keith and I then went to find a place where he could throw up. Poor Keith. I will have to pay dearly for my mistake.
To Be Continued...........................
"Muffy," I pleaded, "please pull your dress down. You look like a hooker after the Republican National Convention."
HA!
Oh yes, please continue!
...and some sponges for his Aunt Gert, who thinks sea sponges have the power to remove cellulite accumulated over the years by a steady diet of Fanta and Cheez Whiz on Ritz crackers.
Now that I've finished lauging, where does one get these magical sponges.
As soon as I read the headline I knew I was in for a treat, but I am overwhelmed. Terrific read.
Vacillating between ecstatic laughter and the vapors here... must be the combination of artful prose, razor sharp insight and recollections of my own history with the Paoli local (which will not be recounted in a public forum, but Muffy would approve.)
Onward, TG!
like offering Botox to John Kerry
L
O
L!!!
The address of ilias Lalaounis on Rodos:
Meg. Alexandrou Sq.
Archaelogical Museum
851 00 Rodos
Rita Soriano, manager
Muffy drinks Krug. Love this woman!
You mean that Greek god by the pool wasn't a statue? Fabulous installment once again, Thin!
Damien, This had a different flavor from the pool one (which really is the funniest installment I have ever read on fodors). When muffy is found in shrubbery the next morning, I am thinking may be someone else took the hydrocodone and dreamt that part. But I like the ilias Lalaounis woman bit. I might use "Ju like, yes"
Only I can't purr.
Okay, Berlin can wait. You have a trip report to finish. Your fans are breathless with anticipation...
I know, I know. Another installment tonight after I get home from work.
How would I look on the K'dam in a chocolate Ferragamo snow parka and John Lobb riding boots? Or is that too Davos snow bunny meets Prussian police officer?
Thin
Yaou! I bet you'd look cute!
So Keith goes and throws up in this ancient well outside the Bank of Spain (?) with French tourists in capris and clown shoes looking on. (One woman is wearing a white sailor hat and smeared lipstick that makes her look like she stepped out of a Diane Arbus photo.) When he is finished we decide to head to a little cafe for a refreshment (and NO I don't mean shots of Jaegermeister). There is some commotion going on inside the little cafe with tables lining the walls like a row of ducks. Either someone is very angry or there is a production of Trojan Women going on in the kitchen of the cafe. (I just hate when people curse or gossip in a language I can't understand.) A sweating man keeps walking in and out of the cafe with a worried look on his face; he talks on a mobile at the same time. Great shouts are now pouring from the kitchen. Finally, a huge fat man emerges from the cafe with his tiny wife. The man on the mobile hurriedly escorts them away.
I ask a young waiter what has happened and he exclaims, "That big man had to use the toilet because he was having problems.....you know.....how do you say in English?........bbbbbbbrrrrrrrrupppppppppppp.....from the ass....he made so much noise that the owner wanted him out. The man on the cell phone was a tour director from one of the ships in the harbour. They were going to be late for the ship."
Well. I won't be eating anything. "I'll just have a diet coke, please," I say. Keith now understands that under no circumstances can he rush to the toilet to throw up. From the size of that fat man, the toilet probably looks like a pig slaughter.
After our refreshments, we decide to walk back out to the newer, commercial harbour and explore the walls of the Old Town that lead to the famous Mandraki Harbour (the supposed site of the Colossus of Rhodes) and the New Town. It is only about a 15-minute walk. We see all kinds of clothing shops that would remind one of Benneton or H/M. It was all very similar to the atmosphere of Ocean City, MD or Seaside Heights, NJ. I didn't see any saltwater taffy or Grotto Pizza, however.
Keith and I make our way back to our hotel spying holiday families eating at various restaurants along the way. There was something for everyone, from a faux Costes filled with the small-town version of the tragically hip (Is that man really wearing a pirate shirt?) to fish-and-chip joints. We pass a sunglass store (Are those Ferragamo sunglasses, sweetie? Blink. Blink.) and decide to go inside. Unfortunately, everything was sooooo seasons and seasons ago. This was worse than Last Call at Needless Markup. It was a sunglass graveyard. Byblos sunglasses? Didn't they stop making those in 1987? I turn on my JP Tod heals, grab my green husband and walk out the door.
Back at the hotel, Muffy is sitting in the lobby whilst talking to one of the cleaning ladies. I am positive she is asking where she can buy something illegal on the island. The cleaning lady looks very afraid. Muffy is wearing a yellow print Tracy Reese sundress. She doesn't look good in yellow; it makes her look like Golden Retriever with bangs. Muffy tells us she is ready to go shopping at ilias Lalaounis now. I reply that we were ready ages ago and have already been, sweetie darling. My Keith is going to eat something before we go anywhere again.
"You either eat some lunch with us, darling, or go on your own," I snarl. She won't go on her own. She needs an audience for her shenanigans. We all go out to the pool to have lunch. After selecting some light fare, we espy Big Bird coming to sit near us. He is carrying a beer. He waves to Muffy and she gets up to join him. Talking ensues and soon he is leaning back and patting his belly. From our vantage point (or should I say disadvantage?), we can see that Dr. Strangelove's missile is ready to take off! All of a sudden, Schotzi appears in a white bikini and pareo. There is an icy exchange of looks. A fork falls to the ground. A glass of beer is overturned.
Keith blurts out, "This is just like one of those Mexican soap operas. Who do you think will get stabbed?"
Schotzi says something in German (Damn! Why didn't I study German in school?) and BB looks terrified. Muffy laughs and lights a cigarette. What Schotzi doesn't realize is that Muffy lives for uncomfortable moments like this. I just pray that no blood gets into the pool. Muffy answers Schotzi in German, which completely surprises her. (You see, Muffy speaks fluent German because her ex-husband, Claus, is Tyrolean.) Schotzi, unnerved by Muffy, the Wicked Bitch of the West, storms off with BB in hot pursuit. I think Muffy is disappointed the no blood was shed, but I am relieved. I am tired of being thrown out of hotels. (Yes, I have been thrown out of hotels.)
more later.......
Does Rodos have a kiosk that sells Crocs?
Good stuff, Thin! Wish Keith a Happy New Year for us, and please limit him to a dozen rugalach. It sounds like he's prone to stomach problems.
Oh Thingorjus, this is so amusing. I am looking forward to reading more.
hi,mon amie,I am in provence at a friends house and he is letting me use his laptop to catch up on your trip report but these french pcs are so different its not easy but keep up the good yarn. kisses to you and jackie_o
ackie o
I have just loved reading this, Thingorjus! I finally had a chance to sit and enjoy your story. Thanks so much for all the entertainment so far.
Hi, Cigalechanta!
After the floor show, I decide it is time to leave the hotel because we have now become the center of gossip amongst the Valkyries around the pool. (Brunhilda's watermelons have become agitated as she moves forward on her lounge to get a better view.) Muffy wants to call a rickshaw to take us on down to ilias Lalaounis so she can buy a bracelet to cheer herself up.
"Muffy," I say, "there are no rickshaws available. Where do you think you are? Do you think the Hampton Jitney will pull up in front of the hotel? We can take a cab if you like." So we take a cab to ilias Lalaounis.
Rita is glad to see us and comes over to give Keith and me a hug. She doesn't attempt to hug Muffy as that is akin to hugging Medusa in a porcupine coat. Muffy starts speaking to Rita in Italian and before we can say, "Olivier Theyskens was axed by Rochas," Rita is pulling out all of the jewellery out of the vitrines that line the walls. Muffy tries everything on and soon looks like a Christmas tree at Graceland. Rita is practically salivating at the thought of her HUGE commission.
Muffy contemplates a beautiful silver cuff that resembles a Greek fishing net. Rita tells her that she will take 40E off of the price if Muff pays cash. "Cash," I scream, "Muffy doesn't even know what a dollar bill looks like. She has cards. She has accountants. Her entire life is managed by Ernst & Young. I don't even think she knows how to put change in a parking meter!" Muffy blinks at "parking meter." I don't think she knows that is.
A digression: in 1992, outside of Peck & Peck in the KOP Mall in suburban Philadelpia, Muffy tried to give a woman manning the Salvation Army red Christmas kettle her credit card for a donation. The woman actually dropped her bell when Muffy offered her Coutts bank card.
Muffy had a better idea. Had Rita ever been to the USA? No? Would she like to come and stay with John and Keith at their lovely home on Nantucket? That could easily be arranged for a !0% discount on ALL purchases. (So, I have a houseguest next summer. I don't know where I am going to put her because my horrid relatives take the whole house up from Memorial Day to Labor Day.They drink up all the good wine my grandmother left me, by the way. Leeches.)
Muffy spent 20 thousand in one hour at ilias Lalaounis. Jackie Onassis couldn't have done better.
Hi Thin-- I am really enjoying your tale, and I got this part hot off the press! I was just over at your Berlin questions, pondering restaurant suggestions, when I saw that there had been a new entry here. It's great!!
I know you are excited about Berlin, but you have a story to finish-- you haven't even gotten to Athens yet!
Thanks for writing such a good report!!
"After Rita maxed out my credit card"
I can't believe you have a limit on your credit card! Thought for sure you'd have the AmEx Black
Does Rita sell any of those adorable little trinkets that people use to decorate their Crocs?
Does Rita sell any of those adorable little trinkets that people use to decorate their Crocs?
http://tinyurl.com/ypjpm2
Yes, Seamus, I know what those little "stickers" are. One of my daft sisters actually wears Crocs (she isn't allowed into my home) with those things on them.
Only trailer trash who win the lottery would ever carry a black Amex card. Tres tacky.
Thingorjus
marginal-
love you - love the story.
i'd take any credit card that gives me a good deal trailer trash or not. why be limited when it comes to spending money.
"doesn't know what a parking meter is"
LOL!!!
Thin, this just keeps getting better and better. A great way to start a morning at work
I shouldn't laugh at Muffy too much though. It wasn't until I left Dallas and went to college that I had my first experience getting gasoline at a station without Pay At The Pump. The clerk looked at me like I had dropped in from Mars when I politely inquired how to pay without the credit card machine on the pump.
I was actually using hyperbole when I wrote that Rita maxed out my credit card. I have never maxed out a credit card in my life. The fact of the matter is that I seldom use a credit card for purchases; I use a debit card.
There is nothing wrong with having unlimited funds, nanabee, but the black Amex card is not as exclusive as Amex advertises. There are far more exclusive cards, issued by private banks, that ordinary people wouldn't know about.
You don't think the Duke of Westminster uses a black Amex card do you? That would be HYSTERICAL.
Thin, this is great. I look forward to reading this everyday. Haven't seen such class snobbery since old Wallie Simpson died!
Excellent, Thin, excellent. My favorite:
"There is an icy exchange of looks. A fork falls to the ground. A glass of beer is overturned.
Keith blurts out, "This is just like one of those Mexican soap operas. Who do you think will get stabbed?""
HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!
Perhaps she was adopted?
As MichelleNYC says A fork falls to the ground. A glass of beer is overturned. is pretty good. You seem to know more about brand names than the combined knowledge of everyone I know. Do you work in fashion industry or a department store or just a careful observer? Very unusual vacation but continues to be interesting.
Totally enjoying reading this latest installment instead of doing anything remotely like work.
I'm thinking an Ab Fab fix is in order this weekend for some reason...
Thin...hurry up and take the next trip so these reports can go on and on and .............
hope the movie version will be out soon.
ttt
I'm loving this...
What's not to love?!
There will be another installment tonight when I get home from a dinner party. I will probably be intoxicated, so watch out.
In tonight's episode Muffy's scares off a tour group in front of the Palace of the Grand Master. She also puts a kitty in her purse for a photo op and gets into a shouting match with a gardener.
Thin
That Muffy . . . gotta love her!
After leaving ilias Lalaounis, we all head to Socrateous Street for some more shopping for Muffy. There is a fountain in a little square right off of this street. There are many cafes that surround the square, filled to the brim with drunken Germans and slags from Hartlepool and Newcastle. Those who can't hold their Stella Artois usually end up painting the inside of the fountain. Blech!!
Just off of the square, there is a little shop that sells scarves. Muffy enters the shop, envisioning herself with a head scarf a la Veronica Webb. We meet the owner, Leontesta. She reminds me of Viveca Lindfors. As Muffy prances around the shop with hands filled with scarves (Oh, doesn't Muffy look just like Isadora Duncan doing an impression of a choking victim?), Leontesta offers Keith and me some advice on great restaurants in the area. There is a very nice place right next door she tells us. In fact, when she is ready for some lunch, the restaurant (Da Vinci) passes food through a hole in the wall. (Is this where "hole-in-the-wall comes from?) Muffy buys a few scarves for posing at the pool and we are off to the Palace of the Grand Master.
On the way to the Palace, we decide that we will have dinner at Da Vinci this evening. We trek along, passing a group of New Jersey Jews who have obviously just departed from the Princess Cruise Line boat parked in the harbour. One frosted blonde in Capri pants and Enzo Angolini wedgies spots Muffy and exclaims, "Shiela, isn't that someone famous? I am sure I have seen her on Entertainment Tonight. I wonder who did her nose? Sheila? Sheila? I'm talkin' to you, Sheila." Keith remarks that Sheila kind of looks like his cousin, Marjorie, whose husband left her for a waitress from the Olive Garden in Binghampton.
The Palace of the Grand Master is unbelievable. It is truly the highlight of our holiday on Rodos. After walking up a very steep flight of stairs, we walked through room after room with amazing mosaic floors. The best is a mosaic of the head of Medusa. The palace was built in the 14th century, but was accidentally blown up in 1856. Mussolini had it restored in the 1930's. Another highlight of the palace is the statue of Laocoon and his sons. There are many women attendants sitting around chatting whilst visitors walk through the rooms. Several of the women make comments about Muffy. They all probably wondered how she ever managed to walk up that flight of stairs in Stella McCartney pumps.
After exiting the palace and walking through the impressive main gate, Muffy decides that she wants to take a few photos. Unfortunately, a line has formed outside the main gate, ruining Muffy's photo op. No problem. Muffy asks EVERYONE standing in line if they will step aside so she can have an unobstructed view of the imposing entrance. She starts YELLING in various languages when some don't budge. And as unbelievable as it may seem, EVERYONE does move for her!!!!!! Some are MORE than happy to oblige, especially two Italian brothers in nylon shorts and tank tops who want photos of Muffy. After all of the hoopla is over, Muffy wanders around for more photos whilst Keith and I try to recover.
There is a cute little kitty sitting on a window ledge outside of the palace who captures our attention. He is cleaning himself as Keith and I approach to have a closer look. Of course, Muffy sees us and has to come barging over. She picks up the cat and puts it in her purse, its head sticking out of the top, and asks us to take a photo. Muffy just thinks she is so cute, cuter that Nicole Ritchie in a Juicy Couture track suit. Just then, an old man in a brown jumpsuit starts screaming at Muffy in Greek. Muffy has no idea what he is saying, but assumes he is a vagrant who is in need of some cash. She hands the guy a few euros, hopping he will leave so she doesn't have to look at his ugly jumpsuit. The jumpsuit is very unfortunate. It looks like one of those jump suits convicts wear when they pick up trash along the highway.
A guide comes over and explains to Muffy that the cat is the property of the Grand Palace and she should not be picking it up. Thankfully, this guide speaks Greek, English, and Italian. She tells Muffy that the man is upset because he thinks that Muffy is trying to smuggle the kitty out of the palace in her handbag. I tell her to tell the man that Muffy would never, ever steal a kitty. A chinchilla or mink maybe, to make a muff, but never a kitty. Cats do not make great coats (except in China). Muffy releases the cat and all is well. All's well that ends well.
We all go back to the hotel to nap, swim, and drink bottles of Krug, which Muffy has shipped in from Marseilles. Later on in the evening, we get ready for a night on the town.
We all decide to head to Da Vinci at about 9 PM. The streets of the Old Town are very crowded. It seems like all the tourists who wear at the beach all day have come out for some dinner and shopping. We reach Da Vinci after a 15-minute walk and are greeted enthusiastically by the owner and staff. The menu looks very appealing. We look it over whilst sipping on the cheap white wine.
Muffy is wearing Balenciaga sandals with a stack heel and a green vintage Grecian-style mini-dress by Romeo Gigli. I am wearing a linen suit from John Varvatos. Keith looks very nice in his polo shirt and Ted Baker pants. We are all WAY OVER DRESSED. Most of those around us look like they just finished their shift at Jiffy Lube.
The Greek salads are fabulous and fresh. I order salmon and Very surprised when it comes.....uhhhh......deep fried???? I have never had fried salmon before. Isn't that how they cook salmon in trailer parks in Alabama???? It is very good, however, and I don't want to send it aback and insult my hosts, who are very kind and gracious even when Muffy "accidentally" flings her butter knife at the crying child at a nearby table.
The owner takes a liking to Muffy and he invites her into the kitchen to meet his wife, the cook. He asks us if we would like to come also but we are afraid to be near Muffy and frying oil and cutlery. Keith and I decline and finish our wine. After all is said and done, we head to the New Town to P-A-R-T-Y.
More to come.........
Thanks, Thin! It seems like you have as much fun writing it as we do reading it!
Please keep going!!
Glad to see the next installment published, thin. Muffy sounds like a lot of fun, but a lot of work too. She is exhausting!
Wow how much luggage does Muffy have with her? I think I've counted at least 6 pairs of shoes so far.
Is Muffy the patron saint of Woody's? Great tale...can't wait to here more. Still hoping for an mkingdom / muffy encounter!
Dear Muffy, what a gal!!!
And Thin, what a writer!!!
You should be getting paid for your trip reports Thin..they make the professional travel writers who write for the various travel magazines sound so boring..because they are.
Love you, love your shoes!
There is a morbid and hilarious fascination to all this, possibly having to do with the fact that I was (and still am to some) "Muffy" until I went to boarding school and we were forced to use our "real" names the year there was a Muffy, a Brownie, a Cookie, a Binky, etc. I tried to tell them it WAS my REAL name, to no avail. It rankled for years...now, reading this, I am quite relieved!
I am dying to know what Muffy's got up to in the next installment
As a teenager the summer of Nixon's second election campaign, I spent a summer nannying for a family in Grosse Pointe, Michigan. Mum and Dad were Muffy & Freddy the II. I babysat Missy & Freddy III. Freddy I had a heart attack on the 7th hole of the Grosse Point Country Club - directly across the street from his house.
It was a world I had never been exposed to before, just as the world your Muffy lives in, is also rarefied, only I'm sure it's not as preppy.
Thin - keep up the saga - it's better than Dynasty.
BTW I named my dog Muffy in honour of that summer.
Well, you know, I read the posts about packing light and bringing one pair of sturdy shoes and a spare, and I think, why? Why look like the Jiffy Lube escapees? I don't look like that at home. So, with inspiration from Muffy, I will pack that 28 " Louis (OK, Samsonite) with clothes befitting my reputation as a clotheshorse. Long live, Muffy!
HAHAHA!!
"Most of those around us look like they just finished their shift at Jiffy Lube."
Thingorjus, where are you? Desperately checking back for more instalments, to no avail. Put us out of our misery!
I will be posting another installment soon. I am extremely busy right now. My sister's father-in-law is ready to croak (he's 94, so don't feel sorry) and so she is constantly calling me on my mobile for sympathy.
Boo-hoo, sweetie darling. I couldn't imagine living to 94. I want to go before my chin starts to sag. Thank Gucci I have all my hair or I'd be checking out.
Thingorjus
Crying tears of laughter...<< cats do not make good coats >>
Hugs to you Thin!
After arriving in the New Town of Rodos, we immediately entered a bar/restaurant/dance club called Lorna. (At least I think that it was called Lorna, but maybe it was called Cyclone or something like that. The name had an "L" in it.) . It was across the street from the Best Western Hotel and the Olympic Airline office. The place had marble tile floors and white tubular metal furniture. It reminded me of the dining room of an Iranian exile in Miami. Yes, Mrs. Hippikadippi's dining room sans the oil on velvet painting of the Shah.
Muffy soon attracted the attention of a large man in linen pants and blue blazer. He was dark, with black hair slicked back a la John Travolta in Grease, and was sweating profusely. He had a large belly, made from 10 years of scotch and Porterhouse steaks. The only cliche missing was the cigar. He started to talk to Muffy whilst Keith and I went to the bar to get drinks. (Keith was so relieved that they had Diet coke.) When we got back, this man was still talking to Muffy, which I could not understand because he was really not the type of guy she would even smile at. Why wasn't she giving him the brush-off????
Just as I was about to go over and find out what in the bloody hell was going on, things turned ugly. The man grabbed Muffy by the wrist and started to pull her toward him. That is when the beluga caviar hit the fan, sweetie darling. The man started screaming that Muffy had no right to disrespect him, that he was a very important person. I don't think he realized who he was dealing with, however. Maybe he thought she was some au pair on holiday in Rodos??????? Little did he realize he was grabbing a girl whose mother had cocktails every Thursday afternoon with Tiger Morse at the River Club in Manhattan. This man could easily disappear with one phone call to the right person.
The bouncers came to Muffy's rescue and the man was escorted out of the building. After Muffy composed herself and went to the lady's room to comb her hair (breeding always shows) she came back and told Keith and me the entire story. It seems that this guy was a Panamanian (his name was Nestor) who had sailed his yacht to Rodos. His yacht was parked in Mandraki Harbour and he wanted Muffy to go back to his yacht for a few drinks. Muffy didn't like him, however. He was fat and wheezy and had bad breath. He was a self-made man and she could tell he grew up in poverty. To compensate, he was overbearing, pretentious, and arrogant. Nestor made the mistake that Muffy would be impressed by his yacht.
After all the fireworks were over, Muffy and I got SMASHED DRUNK and danced the night away. Poor Keith was our nursemaid, taking great care that we didn't wander into traffic when we left the club. We stopped at some outside cafe (it was across the street from the cemetery for those of you who have been to Rodos.) We ordered some coffee and flirted with our cute waiter. But, even cuter was the Spanish guy standing out on the street with a crowd of people carrying suitcases. We chatted them up and found out that they were waiting for their tour bus to pick them up to take them to the airport (at 3 AM?). Muffy was enthralled with the cute Spanish guy with beautiful white teeth and a mop of curls. She wanted to get on the bus with him, but we wouldn't let her. For if we did, she would have ended up in Madrid the next morning with her Dior panties on her head in the Plaza Mayor. We said our "Hasta la vistas" and dragged Muffy kicking and screaming back to the hotel.
The next morning, nursing our hangovers, we made our way to the breakfast buffet. Only Keith could eat (lox and cereal--Oy Vay). It was there that we met a very nice lady and her son who were from Canada. Their names were Kay and Justin. Muffy immediately took a liking to Justin and threw him in the swimming pool. (This is how Muffy shows affection.) The pain au chocolate that he was formerly eating floated on the water like a brown water lily. Kay was nonplussed, acting like total strangers always pick up her fully clothed son and fling him into a pool of water. I was MORTIFIED. Keith, a middle school principal, was also nonplussed. He only gets upset when a student loses an eye. A body cast is just par for the course in his life.
"Muffy," I bellowed, "what did you just do? The poor boy is now soaking wet."
Muffy looked alarmed and wondered if maybe Justin had cigarettes in his back pocket and now they were ruined?????? "Oh, I am sorry if I wrecked your ciggies, guv," she blurted out.
"Muffy, the boy is only about 12. I highly doubt if he is a chain smoker," I continued.
It was then that I realized the futility and error of my statement to someone like Muffy, who smoked unfiltered Camels while she played hopscotch as a child.
After Justin dried himself, we all sat at the pool and talked. Kay and Justin had just come from visiting Justin's paternal grandmother in Milan. They told us about all the Russian mafia molls lined up outside Dolce/Gabbana for the July sales. Some were wearing furs. Oh, yes indeed, money creates taste. We decided to meet up later that night for dinner.
Muffy wanted to head to the Mandraki Harbour to search out Nestor's yacht. We took a cab to the harbour because Muffy said she couldn't possibly walk more than 100 feet in her new Sergio Rossi shoes. We walked along the harbour to look for Nestor's yacht. We finally found it as it was the only yacht bearing a Panamanian flag. I think the name of the yacht was the Clam-Hideous or some such name. Muffy wanted to go on board and TORCH IT!!!!!!
"But, Muffy," I howled, "I thought we were just going to look at it and go. I am not committing arson! I would not survive 35 minutes in a Greek jail."
(Actually, someone I know who is a prison guard once told me that not only would I survive in jail, I would probably run the place. I would be Prisoner in Cellblock Hermes.)
Keith just shrugged his shoulders and continued to eat the orange that he stole from the breakfast buffet. He wouldn't mind prison because he would get three meals a day and get to shower with desperate men.
Muffy tried to go aboard, but I stopped her. My life passed before my eyes as I saw Muffy take her Asprey lighter out of her Pierre Hardy handbag. Luckily, a flock of Japanese tourists walked by, thereby distracting Muffy, and I grabbed the lighter. I also told her that if she didn't wise up I was going to tell everyone that she was a size 9, not a size 6. Realizing that she had been defeated, she stomped away in a huff. She flagged a taxi and left Keith and me standing alone on the pier.
We decided to walk over to a boat that was a floating restaurant/bar. We ordered some ice teas and enjoyed the beautiful view of the water and the azure sky. We even held hands. Ahhhhhhhhhh......so romantic........so nice to defeat Muffy!!!!!!!!! It all made my VERY frisky.
Later that night, we met up with Kay and Justin for dinner at Da Vinci. Muffy did not join us because she said she was meeting someone (Keith and I honestly think she was secretly meeting with Big Bird). But, Muffy's absence did not deter us from having a very good time. The calamari was delicious as well as the company.
To be continued..........
I would be Prisoner in Cellblock Hermes.
Perfect, absolutely perfect
wonderfully funny!
marginal - why don't you write novels?
or do you?
Thanks Thingorjus. Just great. I was rolling on the floor. Need to know more about Muffy.
Your martini - shaken or stirred? BTW, a martini in every place I've been in Europe is 100% dry vermouth. Gin is not used. In Greece I suggest that you ask for an ouzo. For wine, only retsina will do with moussaka.
Where does Muffy get her energy? (Or dare I ask?)
Would Muffy consider marketing her WWMD bracelets on QVC? The world is ready for Muffy and her message.
I know she doesn't spend her evenings prowling around the the dial in search of QVC. So get ready to duck and cover when you suggest she pitch her wares to millions of muu-muu clad viewers.
Timing is everything. As her cocktail hour runs from 12 noon onwards there is a big window of opportunity for you to tempt her with her perks, and $$$$. Some party pooper from the network can work out the rest of the details.
Just think, if she were to miss a taping, for any number of obvious reasons, you could step in as spokes model. Thin, you have the wrists for this. Imagine striking alluring poses, broadcast to a nation of insomniacs in trailer parks. There's a novel just beggin' to be written.
And Keith. Well, Keith could sign your name and an endearment on the photos you send to your fans. With a few more shekels in his pocket he wouldn't have to shop the Back to School sales. Imagine the pride he'll take in a brand new JC Penney short sleeved dress shirt.
p.s. Promise that you won't tell Muffy any of this was my idea.
"Fabulous, hysterical, hilarious, a must-read!" say the Knights of St. John.
More.Please.
That is ironic that you mentioned QVC because my Aunt Judith used to peddle her antique guides on QVC. She doesn't do it anymore because the last time she came over from London, they put her on at 1 AM, right after Kenneth Jay Lane.
Muffy's family owns most of Rittenhouse Sq. in Philadelphia, so she doesn't need to earn a living selling odd tat on the telly.
My maid, Esmeralda, had a heart attack this morning. She is in hospital, but I am worried sick about her. If she passes, right after my mother, I will be beside myself with grief.
Stay tuned, sweetie darling.
Were all pulling for Esmeralda...
Well, thank you, sweetie darling. That is very kind of you, as kind people are very few and far between on this site. I just visited Esmeralda in hospital and she is resting comfortably. I brought her three of my best Pierre Deux Aubusson pillows so she will feel more at home.
Thin
I am thinking of Esmeralda and hoping she will get better. I know many Fodorites wish her good health as well. My best to you too marginal - I know how hard it is to lose someone you love.
So sorry to hear about Esmeralda. Hope things are looking up for her.
And SO sorry you and Keith and Muffy couldn't have joined my sister and me in New Orleans last weekend. Did someone say Party Town? My sister actually got kicked out of the casino there when some scuzzy guy who was fawning over her left his table to go to the men's room and asked her to watch his hand - he won big and she tried to cash out and scoot. I never got her home before 3:30 am. There weren't a whole lot of designer shoes involved, but there was a sinful amount of vodka. We would be positively toxic together.
Off to the Big Apple tomorrow, but looking forward to the next installment.
My very best wishes to you and Esmeralda! I hope that she recovers quickly.
And like everyone else, I'm very much looking forward to your next installment!
"Kind people are few and far between on this site."
Excuse me? We fall all over ourselves celebrating your return from your hiatus, complimenting your writing, and wishing your maid a speedy recovery, and this is what you have to say?
Ridiculous...
I was just wondering how Esmeralda is doing?
She is doing fine. However, my sister's father-in-law just died. All hell has broken loose at my house lately. Plus, I was bitten by my neighbor's dog. I just hope I don't get rabies. That is all I need.
Glad to hear she's on the mend. It sounds like you need another vacation....
After an early turn in, Keith and I awoke to Muffy banging on our bedroom door. She was all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for 9 AM, sweetie darling. She insisted we all go for a morning swim. I could just tell she was bursting to relay some horrid gossip or seamy sex story. And I was correct, for Muffy met a man (I was completely wrong about Big Bird) and she wanted to tell us all about him. The man's name was Oscar and he was on one of the cruise boats that was parked in the harbour. At first, I just couldn't believe that Muffy would "see" someone from a "Carnival Cruise," but when I met Oscar he turned out to be such a great person. Muffy wanted all of us to go to lunch, but Kay, Justin, Keith, and I were all going to Lindos for the day. Kay arranged for "George the Taxi Driver" to cart us around the island. We would all meet Muffy and Oscar for dinner instead.
Lidos was fun, but very hot and tiring. I am also used to being chauffeured around in a Maybach, not a beat up old taxi. But, George was extremely nice and accommodating even if dust was blowing throught the broken window of his cab onto my Paul Stuart madras shirt. We toured the Acropolis in Lidos---nice but how many ruins can you look at before you start thinking about redoing your bathroom? George took us to his village where we met his mother. She was a darling of a woman, although she really needed to see a good dentist about getting Da Vinci veneers. Black teeth are really very unbecoming. Think Camilla Parker-Bowles just a few years ago, sweetie darling.
Later that night after we returned from Lidos and Keith and I were regaled with useless minutiae by Justin (he went on and on about vitamin A not really being good for your eyes), we met Muffy and Oscar for dinner. Muffy wore a black and white dress by Carolina Herrera with a Roberta Di Camerino bag that she stole from her mother who "borrowed" it from Honey Berlin back in the late '70's. Muffy's family always "take" things went they are guests at other people's country houses, including other people's spouses and housekeepers.
Oscar was a very good-looking older man who had a terrific body. Even Keith was amazed by his VERY flat stomach. I say he was around 55. He was a lawyer from New Jersey, but thankfully not a divorce lawyer. We al had a very nice dinner at some restaurant that was not far from ilias Lalaounis. (I can't remember the name of the restaurant because it was so long ago.) We sat under a giant tree and had eggplant and grilled lamb. Muffy was on her best behaviour and did not even drink a bottle of Ouzo and smash other people's dinner plates, which is her normal dinner behaviour in Greece (and setting cars on fire). Maybe Oscar was having a good effect on Muffy?
After dinner, we all went for a stroll around the old town. Muffy insisted on buying Oscar a gold watch, but he absolutely refused. This was very disconcerting for Muffy because most men never turned down gifts from her (and most also drained her checking accounts). She just couldn't fathom Oscar. Keith thought about taking the gold watch, but thought the better of it because he worried that a middle school principal with an expensive watch would raise suspicion, and he didn't want anyone to think he was embezzling money from the PTA.
Now, sweetie darling, just when you are about to think that everything was just grand and all was turning up roses, someone set fire to the whole Prada landscape. Muffy just can't lead a perfect (or normal) life.
Later on that evening, Muffy accused Oscar of "manhandling" her, which we all knew wasn't true because the last man who manhandled Muffy was found face down in the Logan Circle Fountain by the FBI. Drama, Drama, Drama, Drama. I have had enough drama this last year to put on 17 plays in Stratford, sweetie darling. Muffy was really starting to WORK my last gay nerve.
I read Muffy the riot act and told her that anymore drama and problems and Keith and I would leave her and head to Bulgaria (at first she thought I said Bulgari). Even Kay and Justin didn't want to be around her and kept their distance. If my poor dead mother were on Rodos, none of this crap would be happening because Muffy was afraid of Linda. Linda kept Muffy on her toes.
The next day Keith and I said "adios" to Kay, Justin, and the wonderful Despina. We had to catch the 11 AM flight to Athens. Muffy pouted in her Alexander Hershcovitch backless dress (actually I think she had it on backward) and tried for sympathy. I told Kieth not to even look at her because he would turn into a pillar of salt if he did so.
I even made her carry her own luggge to the waiting car.
Next........off to Athina!!!!!!!!!!
finally, things are soaring ahead...more
please. I'm sure Muffy, with her evening amours doesn't have time for exercise, so carrying her bags pleased her to get her arms in shape?
Thank you, Mimi. Did you see that Gianfranco Ferre died on Sunday. He was a favourite of my mother.
Thin
Oh no, I missed that !!!
Well, he was terribly overweight! Thankfully, Karl Lagerfeld lost all that weight and won't suffer the same fate.
Good grief, where have you both been?!?
Gianfranco Ferre died on June 17, 2007.
Maybe I am thinking of the wrong designer. Did someone just die this week? I could of sworn it was Ferre.
I hope you aren't going to leave for Germany without taking us to Athens first! I need my Muffy fix...
Hi Thin,
Just sending best wishes that Esmerelda is doing better and you are finally having some uneventful weeks.
And shamelessly begging for another installment
Yeah where is Athens? We want more more more.
We all arrive safely and on time in Athina, courtesy of Aegean Airlines. Keith and I retrieve our luggage whilst Muffy languishes on a Marlboro cig. She is in heaven knowing that she can smoke in any air terminal in Greece. She drops ash on an woman carrying a fake Louis Vuitton purse.
We head for the taxi row to get a cab to the Intercontinental Hotel. Muffy wants to take a limo, but it is 95 euros. I am sorry, but my school principal husband can't afford that and we are not going to rub our family money in his face. I veto Muffy and we take a perfectly good taxi (33 euros), with a good-looking driver, to our hotel.
The driver is extremely nice and very talky. He tells us all about Athina and how much he wants to go to Las Vegas. Muffy tells him all about how her 4th husband tried to drown her in the fountain at the Bellagio (very true). However, she never mentions that the hotel's general manager asked her never return because she threw a tennis ball at one of the Dale Chihuly glass sculptures in the lobby.
We arrive at the Intercontinental. It is a large hotel with many lifts and restaurants. I stayed here in 1986 with my mother, the famous Linda, who is mentioned in Fodor's Prague 2nd Edition, and my step-father, Ed. Back then, the hotel was the playground of fabulous wealthy Arabs who drank Krug whilst sitting around the pool in their long white robes. Their wives were dressed from head to toe in black, but showed off Maud Frizon pumps and lacquered toenails when they crossed their legs. Today, the hotel is a tad faded and seemed to cater to American tourists from Texas and Missouri.
Our rooms are very spacious, but in need of a makeover. The bathrooms are HUGE and could shelter a family of 4 quite comfortably. Keith and I never see Muffy's room because she leaves all of her luggage in the lobby for the bellman and heads straight for the beauty salon for a coloring and manicure. We later heard that she "bumped" 3 other women ahead of her by bribing the head stylist with a 100 euros.
After a swim in the pool (certainly not as nice as the pool at our hotel on Rodos), Keith and I change and decide to take the free hotel shuttle (my Jewish husband loves this) to Syntagma Square. Muffy decides to come along, even though her nail polish is not dried yet.
After departing the shuttle in Sytagma Square (the shuttle departs almost every hour on the hour), Muffy drags Keith and I to Attic Department Store, which is situated around the corner from the famous Grande Bretagne Hotel (I stayed here in 1998 and it is MUCH improved). Muffy buys tons of Chanel makeup at the makeup counter, but is peeved that the store doesn't carry Face Stockholm products. Keith and I can tell that she is upsetting the very nice salesgirl with her demands.
Digression: There once was a very famous women's clothing store on Rittenhouse Square in Philadelphia. It was called NAN DUSKIN. When Muffy was 16, she came home from school for the Christmas holiday and headed to Nan Duskin with several of her friends (among them the HORRID Pearl Goss) for some shopping. Muffy tried on a very beautiful Pauline Trigere suit, but didn't like it because she said it was too matronly (um, hello, it is Pauline Trigere, how daft can you be?). So, she and Pearl Goss took a pair of shears and CUT the whole suit up to make it more "youthful." Well, Nan Duskin was not too please with that after Muffy and Pearl REFUSED to pay for the suit. Muffy's father was called and had to leave his firm to come and pay for her vandalism. Nan Duskin was going to press charges, but, thankfully, Muffy's last name saved the day. You just can't put a Philadelphia Drexel in prison. The whole social fabric of the city would come undone. However, Nan Duskin taped photos of Muffy on all of its cash registers so all the salespeople would know to call the police if she ever came into the store. And to make matters worse, poor Pearl Goss died of a heroin overdose in 1999.
So, to get back to our story, Muffy then tried to pay for her makeup with a Bloomingdale's charge card, which of course the store would not take. She threw a fit because she had to rummage through her Alexander McQueen bag for another card. (Hello? why don't you put all of your cards back in your wallet when you are finish with them like any normal person?) I had to apologize to the salesgirl for Muffy's lack of manners. (I just know that if my mother were here she would have given Muffy such a good smack.)
Muffy then wants to go to Louis Vuitton across the street, but Keith and I refuse and go to the Benaki Museum instead. We tell Muffy that we will meet her in Kolonaki Square in two hours. And we tell her to please be sober and please, please, do not end up in prison or a whorehouse.
The Benaki Museum is FABULOUS. I highly recommend it to anyone visiting Athens. The museum is filled with treasures--from kouri to Byzantine bibles to Rodos fabric to silver church chalices. The whole museum makes my head spin and I work in an auction house. Even Keith is impressed and didn't mope as usual. However, I draw the line at him wanting to eat four muffins in the museum cafe. I tell him, "If your lovehandles get any bigger, there will be a divorce!"
Later, we meet Muffy at a cafe near Kolonaki Square. Kolonaki is the "ritzy" section of Athens. To our surprise Muffy is on time. Of course, she bought out the entire contents of Louis Vuitton, Armani, Burberry, and Hermes. She needs energy from all that shopping and orders a liquid lunch of a bottle of red wine. Keith and I want to eat in the Plaka, so we just have Diet Coke to drink. After we put Muffy in a cab to the hotel (she refuses to walk to the shuttle), Keith and I head to the Plaka, which is about a 20-minute walk from Kolonaki Square.
We find a cute little restaurant that has tables under a pretty tree. The restaurant is on the main drag in the Plaka, and the street leads right to Mitropolis--the Cathedral of Athens. We have souvalki, Greek salad and a carafe of wine. I think we paid about 25 euro for all.
We wander around the Plaka and head to Starbuck's for a frappaccino. There is a very funny man working behind the counter. He is a hoot and speaks very good English. In the gay world, we would call him a "bear."
With our frappaccinos in hand, we walk back to Syntagma Square to catch the FREE shuttle back to the Intercontinental. Along the way, we notice that the black or olive nylon Longchamp bag is very popular in Athens. We see it everywhere.
Back at the Intercontinental, we find Muffy in the lobby drinking a martini and entertaining a Delta airline employee. She is so drunk that the contents of her purse are scattered all over the rug. The whole world can witness Muffy's birth control pills, Xanax prescription, and multiple driver's licenses. But, what is worse is that the male airline employe's hand is moving up Muffy's leg and everyone in the lobby is craning their necks to get a look.
What could possibly happen next?
Thank God you're in the sunlight again!
(is Muffy going to Germany with you, two?)
Great installment! Great reading! Don't stop!
Just two more installments to go. All this travel writing is exhausting. For Berlin, I am going to keep the report short and sweet.
Mimi, Muffy is not going to Berlin with me. Keith is not going either. He is going to his parent's house in Rochester whilst I am away.
Thingorjus
Delightful, wishing that this could go on for years
Besos to you Thin!!
Scarlett
We are most amused.
I have never enjoyed reading a trip report more.Thank you so much for taking the time to tell this fabulous story.
Kim
Thank you, beelady. That is so kind of you. I will try to do another installment on Sunday night.
Beelady KNOWS what the buzz is about
Morning, Cigale, I posted a review of Dan in Real Life on the movie forum just for you
Sorry to interrupt, can't WAIT for another installment!
I'm so glad that you didn't leave us hanging without an end to this fabulous misadventure.
I'm a little sorry to hear that the usual suspects will not be joining you in Berlin.
So Thin, I'm assuming that Muffy has no ambitions to role model her ancestor Blessed Katharine Drexel?
More please.......
I'll try to post another installment tomorrow night. Tonight, I have to be ready with my loaded rifle in case any little snapper in a Larry Craig costume tries to rub up against my Dorothy Draper wallpaper whilst singing for a Milky Way Bar.
I am dressing Jackie O up to look like Truman Capote.
Happy Halloween from Thingorjus
loaded rifle? Are you going to be Dick Cheney?
Thank you, thank you! I know this is a ton of work for you, but it is soooo appreciated by all of us. Oh, Muffy! Poor pitiful Pearl! Keith with love handles - ackkk! What next indeed...
Happy Hula-weenies to all.
Happy halloween and thank you for continuing this fun and fabulous tale!!
I am having the hardest time imagining Muffy-- I can picture you and Keith.. but not Muffy! is she attractive? She sounds so bizarre, if you don't mind my commenting on your cousin.
Thanks again for writing-- I agree with Annabelle. It is so much work but so much fun for your audience!
ROFL, Larry Craig!! Have you thought of what shoes to wear? Sliding is very important when in the next stall
Well, I had about 200 kids at my house last night. Everyone comes because we give the parents free Miller Lite. (We have a keg, and I would NEVER serve any guest in my house a can of beer. I hand out frosted crystal mugs on my Sister Parish Scotch-plaid tray.) I had plenty of MUSLIM kids (for jj5 who stated the Muslims in Chicago were trying to ruin Halloween) in fabulous costumes. One kid asked me if we were giving out Walmart cheese because he really liked Walmart cheese!
Jackie O had too much chocolate and now has a belly ache.
Muffy, if you are so interested is very beautiful. She kind of resembles Parker Posey.
Thingorjus
It is always freezing cold in Denver on Halloween and last night was no exception. We served hot mulled wine to the parents. We didn't get nearly the 200 kids that visited Thin and Keith, but we did notice we got a LOT of repeats and after a while, we realized it wasn't the kids who wanted to come back to our house... it was the parents wanting another nip, LOL!!
Hope your Berlin planning is going well, Thin, and I look forward to the last few days of your Greece trip whenever you have time to post them. I still think you should publish vingettes of your travels by the way. I bet you'd have a Best Seller on your hands.
We got into an argument with one of the guards because she said I crawled up on top of a display case to get a better view. She spoke very good English because she understood what "ugly shrew" meant. I guess we were lucky we weren't evicted
LOl, Pal, too much celebrating last night!?
Dorothy Draper? Jackie O? Truman Capote? Sister Parish? Geez, Thin, no wonder everyone here thought you were sixty-something!!!!
And let's not forget Sister Parish.
Please, darling, all these people were friends of my family. Sister Parish decorated my grandmother's apartment on Avenue Kleber in Paris. Sister Parish was related to Dorothy Draper somehow (cousins?). My Aunt Judith had Dorothy Draper wallpaper that she found in an closet in my grandmother's apartment after she died. That is how I got it. There are people who would KILL for that wallpaper, as the only other place that used that design was the Greenbriar.
No installment tonight. I just drank a bottle of Nyquil.
So long,
Thingorjus
Oy! John! Unlike you and gin, surely you realize that Jackie O and chocolate do not mix!
x
Thin,
My family expects me to put on a big Thanksgiving extravaganza.
I've told them "I can't take on another thing. I'm too busy waiting for the next chapter in the Thingorjus saga . It is taking up all my energy and attention at the moment."
In the interest of family harmony, could you perhaps throw a crumb or a few paragraphs our way?
Thin is planning his next holiday in Berlin..soon soon and I can't wait to read that!!!
Actually, I forgot all about this thread. It will have to wait because I am EXTREMELY busy with my job, trip to Berlin, and grad school classes right now.
Thingorjus
LOl, EVOO-one is waiting
Glad to read this saga will continue.
I take it Jackie O survived the unfortunate chocolate eating incident.
Hope things go from one EXTREME to the other, and you'll have some time to relax and put your Guccis up.
I will continue to keep vigil by the computer until your next missive. I don't think I'll even warm up our traditional Swanson turkey dinners on Thursday.
Write when you can, we'll wait.
I completely forgot about this trip report. Where did you find it? I thought Fodor's deleted it.
Oh, and I just saw Pearl Goss's mother the other day. She did not look well at all. That poor woman.
Muffy has a new boyfriend named Lino (or maybe it is Linus). It is hard to understand her when she is on her mobile.
I never posted my Berlin trip report either. I am just so lazy in my dotage.
Thin,
The Dowager of Fodor's
Yes..the longest cliff hanger in the history of Fodor's trip reports. Perhaps you'll finish it one day...
Would love to hear about your Berlin trip.
Author: Proenza_Preschooler
Date: 04/30/2008, 09:40 pm
I completely forgot about this trip report. Where did you find it?
Who are you asking?
And why can Statia call you John and I can't (well, I can but you don't seem to like it)
And all this time I thought you were just avoiding the Jackie O question.
Please, continue.
John, thin, pro, polly magoo marginal_Margiela.
A rose is a rose is a rose
and jackie-o remains his devoted pup that's a dog
If you must know, Gashouse, this report was topped by the WHAT ARE YOUR FAVORITE TRIP REPORTS? thread.
You can't call me John because you are not my friend.
Statia is my friend; Mimi is my friend.
Do I send you postcards from Europe? NO!
Do I email you? NO!
Thin,
who hates stalkers
>>>>>this report was topped by the WHAT ARE YOUR FAVORITE TRIP REPORTS? thread.
I knew that already, just making a point, John G.
Why do they all call you John if that's not your real name?
~Gassy
Greenhouse, pay Thin no mind. Like Truman Capote, it's not enough for him to be talented; he thinks he needs to be mean to have character.
Sad to need a message board to be part of a clique.
BTW, don't flatter yourself.
This thread was the 2nd one to come up when I clicked on my own name.
And I was so hoping for another installment.
Ta
But my real name is John.
Oh. Never mind.
Author: Proenza_Preschooler
Date: 04/10/2008, 06:21 pm
Well, I just find it very odd that you, someone who is unknown to me, would want to meet for drinks.
Honestly, I don't ever remember seeing a post from you on Fodor's and suddenly you are calling me John.
I have to be very careful because all of the long-time members of Fodor's know about the stalking of many of the more "famous" posters.
One Fodorite had a stalker show up at her house.
There are Fodorites who no longer post here because of stalking.
I can't possibly meet you for a drink, Greenhouse, until I get to know you.
There are only two Fodorites in existence who even know my real name.
Thingorjus
Um, that means MY FULL NAME. First and last.
JBG
I see.
Well John, I couldn't care less about what that is.
Great! Now stop stalking me.
Please. I don't like you.
Thin
Like I already said, don't flatter yourself, gauchegorjus.
To Change The Subject....I forgot which posting you recommended the Benaki Museum to me on, so I'll just post on this one. Thank you so very very much for urging me to go to the Benaki Museum in Athens. Oh My God!! I was in shock and overwhelmed with what those 4 floors held. I have never seen anything like it. Thank you again for suggesting it.
Also, their 2nd floor cafe was a wonderful place to eat and people watch and was amazingly reasonable. XOXO Seeks
Why is everyone so testy all of a sudden these days? Is it something in the air?
I'm thinking I need to write up one of my soothing trip reports, from Kenya or NYC or Berkeley, or wherever else I've been dervishing lately, to calm things down around here.
How anyone could get all bent about Thin is beside me. But I guess you have to have followed his posts for some time...maybe years...to "get" it. Probably the same with me and others.
Thin has contributed SO much to these boards, in his unique manner, for many years. You may find his posts offensive or obnoxious or whatever, but consider the wealth of information he's provided, and in such an entertaining manner!
I'm still a major fan. In fact, in my dreams, I get off Amtrak at Penn Station and Thin whisks me off to a sodden lunch at Rittenhouse Square and I have managed to dress perfectly for the occasion.
St. Cirq, it is 30th Street Station. Penn Station is in NYC.
You don't have to defend me. I can take care of myself. We all know who the cogent posters are and those who come to Fodor's to ask for recipes and what colour to paint the shutters on the house.
Thin
...so I guess that now there is no hope of Thin ever finishing this awesome report!
I've only had time to check in here and there lately and I'm so glad this was topped so that I could catch the last couple of installments I had missed. Such fun and so hysterical! You are such a talented writer.
I do hope you find the time to finish the saga.
My favorite trip report ever. I was hoping it would be finished but I think I am just going to have to wonder how it all turned out!