Miss Snark has been known to rise to the top of buildings on her broom, but this afternoon, zipping back to the office, Miss Snark dashed into a crowded elevator car. Crushed in a sea of suit coats Miss Snark suddenly heard the voice of her beloved.
As if channeling a Labrador Retriever Miss Snark rose on her tippie toes and practically chinned herself on the suits surrounding her. She clawed. She scanned. She swiveled. She looked...well....deranged.
This is New York of course so not only did no one comment, they didn't even notice.
Miss Snark is practically dancing on the bald heads of seven vice presidents of a well known media conglomerate when she realizes Mr. Clooney is not only not IN the elevator, he's on the television screen by the illuminated panel of floor buttons. He's being interviewed by some tawdry news babe about his new movie.
It was only due to her complete mortification that Miss Snark did not let out a wail of disappointment.
Miss Snark crept into the nearest taxi and headed for the closest bar. It was across the street, but no matter.
NYPD may have to advise Mr. Clooney to come for Miss Snark soon...if only as a matter of public safety...not to mention the shoulder pads of Armani clad bald vice presidents.