Because it felt like a grim duty, I forced myself to read an excerpt of “Nobody’s Girl,” Virginia Giuffre’s posthumous memoir. You’ll recall she was the first, and highest-profile, of the Epstein victims to go public. It was published in The Guardian. It’s as sad and awful as you’d expect, but this passage, about sex with the no-longer-titled Prince Andrew, caught my eye:

Back at the house, Maxwell and Epstein said goodnight and headed upstairs, signalling it was time that I take care of the prince. In the years since, I’ve thought a lot about how he behaved. He was friendly enough, but still entitled – as if he believed having sex with me was his birthright. I drew him a hot bath. We disrobed and got in the tub, but didn’t stay there long because the prince was eager to get to the bed. He was particularly attentive to my feet, caressing my toes and licking my arches. That was a first for me, and it tickled. I was nervous he would want me to do the same to him. But I needn’t have worried. He seemed in a rush to have intercourse. Afterward, he said thank you in his clipped British accent. In my memory, the whole thing lasted less than half an hour.

It took a few minutes for the image to swim up from the depths of my memory:

Remember that? It was 1992, and Andrew and his commoner wife, Sarah Ferguson aka the Duchess of York, were separated. She’d traveled to the south of France for a restorative weeklong holiday with a then-unknown Texas “financial advisor,” and the paps did what paps do:

The 55 pictures over nine pages showed a topless Fergie rubbing sun cream on to the head of her balding financial adviser, kissing him, lying under him and letting him kiss or lick – the actual activity has since been disputed – her toes.

The question of whether Andrew or Sarah were into foot play when they married, or whether one introduced the other to it, or if it just happened spontaneously, remains open. Me, I don’t judge, I just notice. A longtime reader of this blog once messaged me that when someone says, “check out the pair on her,” he first looks at her feet. I’d much rather have my feet rubbed than kissed, and tomorrow I’m cashing in a nearly expired gift certificate for a 75-minute deep-tissue massage that I hope will include a little attention to the ol’ dogs.

I am thinking about this because it keeps me from thinking about the White House being torn down to build what will no doubt be the ugliest, tackiest, goldest monument to Tubby ever, one that I believe we should allow a full squadron of graffiti artists to deface as soon as he leaves. Assuming he leaves.

Let’s also turn our attention to other, more substantive matters. Roy has a nice piece on Zohran Mamdani. Dunno if it’s paywalled, but here’s a passage Dems should be paying attention to:

It should be mentioned that part of Mamdani’s success is his willingness to champion policies the voters actually want instead of making up excuses for why they can’t have them. Cheaper housing, lower cost of living, higher minimum wage — those are all easy layups. Even his promise to protect people from ICE goons reflects a growing consensus across the country at large.

These policies are reflexively treated by the Prestige Press as outside the mainstream, but if they are, it’s because those guys put them there, not because voters don’t want them.

Why did Trump win? In part, because he promised things people want. Yes, most of it was transparent, obvious bullshit — how’s that better, cheaper health care working for you, Kentucky? Is it infrastructure week yet? — but it worked for a man with a known track record for lying. Why can’t it work for those of us who deal in good faith? It seems it’ll be easier to make NYC buses free than design a national health-care plan, but what do I know? I know enough about public transport to know that fares are a small portion of system revenue, and the more people who can take public transit into a densely populated city, the better it is for everyone. I’ve been taking my beloved DDOT 31 bus down to Wayne State when weather permits, and I’m reminded again of how pleasant it can be, to throw your bike on the rack, ride downtown, retrieve the bike and cycle the last three-quarters of a mile to campus, without having to worry about parking. Besides, I’m taking a creative writing class, and we’re into poetry now. I need to hear the songs of my people for inspiration. and you hear them on a bus. Here’s something I heard the other day: “Hey, beautiful, I like your glasses.” And he was talking to me!

Anyway, go Zohran. Let’s try you for a while.

OK, I gotta think about exercise, a shower and dressing for the evening — going to see Fran Lebowitz tonight with a friend. Hope the remainder of your Wednesday is swell.