via kottke
Umm, okay, I’m going to overshare and probably regret this:
I went to high school summer art camp at Wesleyan with Jordan Wolfson (what a name, eh?). He lived in Westport, I believe ($$$); and I was on a scholarship. We lived on the same hall in the same dorm and were trapped with the same group of guys every weeknight after 10:00 p.m. for six weeks. Jordan was an asshole. Granted, so was I, but Jordan was a way bigger one. Talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, ego, ego, ego…and the Austin Powers impressions. Oh yes, it was the summer of 1997, so all the idiots were peppering their conversations with “Do I make you horny, baby?” and “Ooh, behave!” Remember how fun that was? I believe I also recall Jordan saying that Erica Jong was his aunt—a point of pride. He also accused me, very confidently, of stealing some of his recreational pharmaceuticals, which—though it would have been consistent with my character at the time—I had nothing to do with. The one nice thing I can say about Jordan is that when I ran into him at a party years later—when we were both in college, presumably—he wasn’t at all dick-ish during our 30-second interaction.
Oh, and for the record, when I personally stumbled upon this piece at the Whitney (two years ago?), I did in fact want to puke.
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