The New York Post ran a sighting of Mikhail Gorbachev in Miami the other day and I thought it was kind of hilarious – really just because the chance to put the words “Gorbachev” and “Miami” in the same sentence don’t come along often. Then today they ran another sighting but put in the added bonus that he was seen sending back every dish he was served at the Prime 112 Steakhouse.
How entirely enchanting for the waiters at Prime 112. After all, there’s got to be no customer more easy to please than an aging, probably mildly senile, Russian ex-President who is somehow culturally displaced in America’s repellant waiting room for death, ordering a steak. Nothing is ever good enough. “No no, steak is too…how you say, “FOOFY”. Take away please now and bring other selection. Please, you don’t fail this time. I kill.”
I have no idea why anyone would leave the charming bitter cold of Moscow to come to the horrific, socially aspirational “white pants and white shirt with sunglasses at night while standing on a rooftop drinking dated cocktails near the bar while trying to chat up a 40 year old tanned divorcee and congratulating oneself for being so successful…looking” Miami. Maybe Gorbachev is a little like Britney; maybe under all that statesman pomp there’s just a Russian trash kid. [source]