VIP

Thursday night I met a guy who told me he doesn’t like the Hamptons. The reason was that, on his first weekend out there, years ago, half his share house was mowed down by Lizzie Grubman.

“That’s going in my blog,” I told him.

He didn’t know what to make of my response.

Part of his confusion was that, when pressed, I couldn’t articulate why I thought it was blogworthy.

But I digress. This past weekend, as described in the prior blog entry, I went out to the Hamptons for their annual film festival.

There was a party last night at the Star Room. My friend and I went and met up with a third friend whose company was a sponsor at the festival. This third friend was a Very Important Person at the Hamptons Film Festival.

There was a VIP room at the club. As my friend and I approached we could see our third, VIP friend. He was talking to a tall blonde man who, evidently, was himself a VIP.

We got to the door of the room and told the bouncer that we knew our VIP friend. The bouncer let us in and then I saw who the VIP friend was with.

It was a guy from my share house last summer. He’s nice. He took me out on his boat once.

He works in finance. Not an entertainment industry VIP. For a moment I puzzled over my VIP friend schmoozing with him. Then I remembered. The guy from my house knows one of the people who runs the festival.

This led to the realization that VIP status ultimately boils down to being friends with a Very Important Person, who in all likelihood got to where he or she is by being friends with a Very Important Person.

Back then to the guy I met Thursday whose housemates were mowed down by Lizzie Grubman on his first weekend out in the Hamptons ever.

I finally realized why it was blogworthy.

Because it says something about how even though this city can seem oh so anonymous and disconnected at times in reality it isn’t.