The scary mini terror bombing on Times Square was immediately forgotten amid the much bigger detonation of Eliot Spitzer’s political career. Echoes continued through the week: Ashley Alexandra Dupré, the call girl from Room 871 of the Mayflower Hotel, pleaded with Empire Staters not think of her as a “monster.” Silda Wall Spitzer pushed her husband not to resign but stood by him as he abdicated. The new governor, Harlem’s David Paterson, prepared to step up and face Albany’s $4 billion budget deficit; State Senate Majority Leader Joe Bruno stifled his glee and announced it was “time to move forward.” (The one predictable exception to grown-up behavior was on Wall Street, where traders celebrated the demise of their onetime antagonist amid the biggest one-day stock rally in five years.)
Hillary Clinton tried to give the impression that she regretted allowing quote machine Geraldine Ferraro — “If [Barack] Obama was a white man, he would not be in this position” — anywhere near her finance committee. Obama continued to be amazed that Clinton was touting him as a potential running mate, then won the Mississippi primary handily. GOP nominee John McCain played the Plaza for one night only, accompanied by Al D’Amato, for a fund-raiser that raised a reported $2 million. The owner of the Lispenard Street loft that bunked the lovelies of America’s Next Top Model railed against their ugly housekeeping skills. A Brooklyn prosecutor assaulted in court by a razor-wielding drug dealer was saved by her attacker’s 72-year-old defense attorney.
Trace amounts of hormones, nicotine, and anti-anxiety drugs were found in the Big Apple water supply. Rumors swirled that the last game at Yankee Stadium would be played on skates, by the Rangers. Aged yet buff Iggy Pop serenaded Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductee Madonna with “Ray of Light” and “Burning Up.” Blackstone Group CEO Stephen Schwarzman bought naming rights to the New York Public Library building for $100 million. And in the best news all week, the Parks Department granted new permits to the Red Hook soccer-field vendors, ensuring six more years of empanadas. —Mark Adams