HERE we go again. New York’s accidental and temporary governor, David Pater son, cannot remember whether he engaged in energetic sex with a woman not his wife for two – or was it three? – years around the turn of this century.
I can remember the make, model and license plate numbers of my first three automobiles. But maybe it’s me.
Paterson revealed yesterday the reason he can’t get straight the frequency or duration of his loving ways: He was engaged in flings with a burgeoning population of strange and familiar women. Too many to count.
“I didn’t violate an oath,” he actually said, as if the oath of marriage were a ticklish formality that one may easily trash – provided, as he insists, he did not spend state money to pleasure himself.
But wasn’t Paterson catting around during times he should have been busy writing legislation or something? What duties are we, the taxpayers, paying these guys to perform?
Paterson’s greatest sin is not that he was horny. Rather, he’s cheap.
It’s as if he were in competition with New Jersey’s deposed gay governor, Jim McGreevey, who engaged in sexual ménages à trois with his wife and his hot, male driver following dinner at that fine wings-and-skins emporium, TGI Friday’s.
Paterson’s tastes were so low-rent, he made up with his wife, Michelle, with an intimate liaison at the same Manhattan Days Inn where he met with various women whose names escape.
Days Inn, David? Was Motel 6 booked?
There is one more thing you need to know about New York’s latest middle-aged hound dog: He blames his wife.
“I was pretty upset and I was kind of just angry and for a period of time I was using poor judgment,” Paterson said, explaining why he had to be unfaithful.
“I wasn’t reckless. I was jealous over Michelle. But it was not Michelle’s fault.” Nice.
We are rapidly growing desensitized to chief executives whose carnal needs trump common sense. It appears that a state position and the ability to twist arms is all it takes for a public servant to get laid while on the clock.
Paterson admitted he helped a lover afflicted with an unspecified medical problem get special treatment at work. It seems a roll in the hay, and a word from the then-state senator, got the lady’s problem fixed.
Lost in the hubbub of the latest Love Gov is the fact that the man had children – a boy who was between 5 and 7 when Paterson commenced his activities, plus a stepdaughter.
But you heard him. It’s nobody’s business.