Fictional Characters of New York — #10

“He had money. He had a classic car and an apartment in an art deco building overlooking Central Park. But he was weird. Now I have no problem with weird. I once dated a guy who liked to be spanked. But Scott’s obsession with the Jazz Age grew tiresome. Always immaculately dressed in a blue paisley ascot, herringbone vest, and a brown fedora, even in bed, he took the role too seriously. “Don’t call me Scott. Call me Daddy-O,” he would say when he would drag me to these endless lawn parties in the Hamptons, where accountants and lawyers would listen to long-dead crooners on the gramophone and make believe they lived in the world of Jay Gatsby. “And don’t use your iPhone,” talking to me like I was a child. “There were no iphones in 1927.” I know Scott’s a good catch, especially in New York, but I hate being controlled. Why do men like to control women? Why do I have to sneak behind a tree, like a criminal, just to go onto Facebook?  It’s not 1927.  It’s 2014.”