Okay. What did Naomi Campbell do, throw a phone at someone? I thought that was Russell Crowe. Did he have to pick up garbage? I forget. Was there a picture on page 6 of the Gladiator dressed in a John Doe jumpsuit or was that just one of my fantasies? Maybe he had to pay some real money to his victim—cover the plastic surgery he will not need for the rest of his life, compensate for the week of fame the guy enjoyed as Russell Crowe’s little hissy fit. So what did Naomi Campbell do, bitch-slap her nanny?
The new American punishment is the bitch-slap, the ‘give me your hand and I’ll give it a little tap with a newspaper, rolled up with page 6 on the outside.’ Yeah, that’s it. A day sweeping floors that have undoubtedly been swept the night before, with a bodyguard, a couple of Starbucks coffee breaks, and a get-out-of-jail-free card.
Like these Enron guys… the endless trials until we’re bored sick of the television coverage, and what… we take away one of their islands, one of their yachts? And then the verdict is overturned and another trial is scheduled and by the time the whole thing has been resolved or not, there are way more important things going on. I lost $8,000 in Enron stock because some pathetic broker looking to make his portfolio look extra sweet got duped. So what happened? Endless paperwork I did—Xeroxed stock transactions, statements, documented my own stupidity in triplicate, mailed it all in, only to receive notification that the settlement would not even cover the cost of the postage it took to send the proof-of-loss paperwork in to the attorneys. Who got bitch-slapped here?
Remember the Exxon Valdez incident? What is the stock trading at today? The amount of money they actually forked over was the equivalent of you or me giving a homeless person a penny. A penny we found in the street. If that. A few years passed by, a few Great American Scandals, and we forgot all about that, except for a few Green Party activists who happen to live in Alaska where some of the beaches still stink. Bitch-slapped.
So what was the point of Naomi’s little pantomime… to show that justice is served in New York City? Where are the hundreds of kids in this town being mistreated—in foster care, being used for a bigger monthly check for their parents…babies, left in garbage cans, on doorsteps—underfed, underloved by teenage parents who are being told by the Christian left they are good girls for not having abortions. Are the mistreating Moms cleaning up somewhere?
How about the goddamn Wall Street crooks; there’s this, and there’s that verdict; one is overturned, one is convicted—then appealed. In the end these guys haven’t lost a silver-served meal; one of them just bought a 6.5 million dollar condo across the street from me for his son. And the doormen doff their hats and call him Sir while the rest of us poor schmucks are being collection-agency-threatened for unpaid parking tickets for violations we didn’t even commit with cars we can no longer pay for.
I was stopped last year swiping into a subway station. I was rushing and had pulled out my kid’s school card by mistake. Did I use it? No. But I was stopped by an undercover cop and issued a summons for using am illegal pass. What a vigilant law enforcer. Did he check to see that indeed I’d swiped my own adult one, and to answer the question why, if I have an unlimited use card, would I choose NOT to use it? I had to waste a whole frigging day in a courtroom in Brooklyn where my case was dismissed, but I had to eat the cost of the two confiscated cards. Not to mention an unpaid weekday. Bitch-slapped. Me. For being a law-abiding citizen.
God forbid I should have thrown a cell-phone. Let’s say my child decides to just invent that I threw a cellphone. I’d be hauled off by ACS and my child would be put into a foster home. No office sweep for me, no photo-op.
I know a guy who went out with Naomi Campbell. She went ballistic on him, too. Was it worth it? Definitely a great looking piece of ass, he said, but for the drama, he’d rather have Angelina Jolie.
Did Naomi put those sanitation department photos in her photo album? In her portfolio? Sure, she’s looked better on the runway, on her way into courtrooms, screaming at future ex-boyfriends in VIP rooms. Who cares about these spoiled celebrity brats? Little Tara Reid running her SUV into a building and crushing a few bones. Did she have to change bedpans for her hospital victims? Did she have to mow someone’s lawn? Buy her own groceries for a week? I forget.
Bring back the pillory.