"A sign inside the front door of Miami Velvet, a night club of sorts in a warehouse-style building a few minutes from the airport, states, 'If sexual activity offends you in any way, do not enter the premises.' At first glance, though, the scene inside looks like a nineteen-eighties disco, with a bar, Madonna at high volume, flashing lights, a stripper’s pole, and a dancer’s cage. But a flat-screen television on the wall plays porn videos, and many clubgoers disappear into locker rooms and emerge wearing towels. From there, some of them go into a lounge, a Jacuzzi room, or one of about half a dozen private rooms to have sex—with their dates or with new acquaintances. Miami Velvet is the leading 'swingers’ club' in Miami, and Roger Stone took me there to explain the role he may have played in the fall of Eliot Spitzer, the former governor of New York."
So begins Jeffrey Toobin's New Yorker profile of political consultant turned parasite Roger Stone, who claims he helped bring down Spitzer by exposing The Former's hooker dalliances. According to Stone, it was at Velvet one night that he met a high-end call girl who revealed that Spitzer had a thing for working girls and kept his socks on while he did it. In the end, Stone has proved to be a liar and a jerk, but he's right about one thing: "The only thing worse in politics than being wrong is being boring."
