Maureen Dowd, "Tines That Try Men’s Souls": Bill de Blasio out of the Running in 2016!

Four years ago, I received a momentous phone call: "A talent scout likes your face and wants you for a pizza commercial. If you're selected, can you come to wardrobe on Wednesday?" My first thought was that one of my friends was playing games with me, but after a few pointed questions which annoyed the agent, I realized this was the real thing: God was smiling upon me!

"Yes, sure, I'll come to wardrobe on Wednesday." I was certain that this was going to be a piece of cake, or at least a slice of pizza, which I like almost as much as ice cream.

And wardrobe was great. "Try this on." "Or perhaps you look better in this?" "We don't want to make you look too old." So much flattery and attention.

But then came Thursday. I arrived a few minutes late and was hurried downstairs to be dressed. I met the three accomplished actors who would be working with me. I admitted to everyone that I had never before acted. "That's okay. You've got no lines. You're being paid to eat."

Time to shoot the commercial. I was hungry. They positioned me at the head of the table and told me, "Jeffrey, no need to do anything. Just keep eating." It was 5 p.m. when they handed me that first plate of piping hot pepperoni pizza, and the camera started to roll. The pizza was delicious, and I wolfed it down. I couldn't understand why the veteran actors, positioned on my left and right at the table, barely took more than a bite.

"Jeffrey finished his pizza. Give him another." And that second slice was just as fine as the first. The scene was shot again and again, each time with a slight variation, sometimes at a different angle. "Jeffrey, keep eating."

Occasionally, I would sneak a glance at my watch: it was 6 p.m. and soon 7 p.m. I had lost track of how many slices of pizza I had eaten. I was certainly into my second or third pie when they said they would need to take close-ups. This was when the hard work began:

"Take a big bite and smile."

"Excuse me, how do I smile with a mouthful of pizza?"

It was getting close to 9 p.m., and I had lost count of the number of pies that I had eaten. Some joker positioned an empty bucket under the table beside my legs, into which I could spit the pizza. Obviously, this film crew had no idea how tough I am. Thirty years ago I used to take bets on how much ice cream I could eat in the space of 10 minutes, and I just continued to swallow.

But what really had me pissed off was the fact that they had me eating pizza with a knife and fork. Me? A knife and fork? I was going to be seen on television eating pizza in upper-crust fashion? On the other hand, who was I to object? After all, I was being paid for this gluttony.

In her latest New York Times op-ed entitled "Tines That Try Men’s Souls" (http://www.nytimes.com/2014/01/15/opinion/dowd-tines-that-try-mens-souls.html?ref=maureendowd), Maureen Dowd begins:

"Far be it from me to defend what Jon Stewart has demolished.

But I would like to speak up on behalf of the fledgling New York mayor’s de Blasphemy, now universally deemed his first mistake and possibly grounds for impeachment: daintily carving up his smoked-mozzarella-and-sausage pizza at Goodfellas in Staten Island with a knife and fork.

I’m not saying it’s right. I know it’s wrong. I’m just saying I do it, too. I eat pizza with a knife and fork because I want only the gooey stuff on top, not the crust."

Bill de Blasio of Brooklyn ate pizza with a knife and fork? I might expect as much from Maureen, but Bill? For shame! Chris Christie's Fort Lee traffic fiasco pales beside this faux pas. That's it! He's finished! This prig will also never make it to the Oval Office!