Quidnunc Out

Since this blog launched, we've regularly stopped by Richard Leiby's Thursday chats every week, and so it was a tear-soaked fog that we followed today's final installment. Rich, always wittier and snarkier than he was ever allowed to be in the column, shined in the chats--it was evident that he lived for the unfiltered access to the general public and the chance for his alter-ego Quidnunc (quidnunc \KWID-nuhngk\, noun: "One who is curious to know everything that passes; one who knows or pretends to know all that is going on; a gossip; a busybody.") to singe, torch, belittle, and mock the social life of Washington. Thankfully, it's not hard to watch someone leave a job they've disliked. It is almost guaranteed that whatever he starts doing next Monday, he'll be happier and able to his use manifold talents for good rather than evil. Here's his final message: Parting is such sweet sorrow ... except it actually isn't. Now I get to leave the office by 6 and never have to engage in mind-numbing party chatter again --with an exception, perhaps, for the bash marking Anne Schroeder's departure from the column. It's tomorrow night, at an undisclosed restaurant located at the corner of 15th and M Sts., NW. The poor man, though, didn't even get a party by his co-workers. Meanwhile, as he's mentioned, the Committee To Keep Gossip Alive in Washington is convening a soiree tomorrow night to honor Schroeder as she starts Monday at Capitol File. Word is that the bartenders will be mixing up some special concontions: the POSTini (Grey Goose dirty with olives), Schroederade (vodka tonic with lemon and lime), the Gossipini, and Absolut Anne. This all begs the question: If Rich Leiby was to be a drink, what would he be? What would be the Quidnunc special? A Liebytini? A Richmopolitan? A Quidhattan?

Fishbowl

Quidnunc Out

Garrett

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Garrett