I had come to investigate a crime that may seem like something out of the game of Clue. A’s in disguise, for nothing here is quite as it appears.
A young woman with dark, Pre-Raphaelite hair came toward us. There was the creak of an opening door, then a soft tread. As part of their initiation, new members were said to be required to buy and then burn a plane ticket to China.Īs my friend pressed the front doorbell, I peered through the glass into a deep, dimly lit foyer that led to some stone steps. An Asian slave was rumored to be kept in the basement to do laundry for what is referred to as The Membership. I’d heard the stories: about the rivers of alcohol, the stacks of 20s by the backgammon board, the supposed drug use, the hot tub on the roof, the beauties reared back against the antique billiard table. A’s-“Probably the 10th or 12th member in my family,” he told me, conveying the tone of the place, then adding nervously, “Just don’t use my name.” He had arrived wearing New York black, no costume, but I had brought along an owlish mask, the closest thing I could find to the scarlet number in the Venetian-orgy scene in Eyes Wide Shut. I had come with an out-of-towner who was genetically St. I was keen to move among the beautiful young things as they writhed to a D.J.’s beat. Before me, the building’s giddy Beaux-Arts façade glowed in the lamplight. It was nearly midnight and drizzling outside Columbia’s Saint Anthony Hall fraternity, and I was trying to sneak into its annual Halloween party.
0 kommentar(er)
