I found myself thinking, this afternoon, as Eliot Spitzer eloquently bolted for the door from the governer's mansion, "Wow".
I'm just not sure at all if my wife would be standing next to me at a press conference after finding out that I had blown what amounts to a pretty good post-secondary tuition for one of my daughters on a series of trysts with an obviously talented hooker. I just don't see it.
But then, I've also never lived in France. I've read Michel Houellebecq though, and I'm pretty sure he'd be ok with all this. Luckily, he'll never get elected in America. This is especially lucky for prostitutes. Because he'd be interested in doing things that might be considered dangerous. And that's not good for anybody: not the voters, not the girl, and certainly not the wife.