Here's an amazing story from a former campaign intern that also, refreshingly, contains zero penises and/or sex condos:
There was the time when he called his 20 interns into a cramped office, and boasted that if we told him our names and one fact about ourselves, he could correctly identify all of us. He went around the room, then went back to the first intern, and tried to remember her name.
“Monica,” he said. No, it was Stephanie.
Then he called me “Monica.” Wrong again.
He got the next three interns’ names wrong, and then called the whole thing off.
Obviously, it's bizarre for a number of reasons that Weiner kept guessing everyone's name was Monica. But what we like about the story is Weiner's immediately recognizable hubris playing out on a small scale.
Is he particularly great at remembering names? Apparently not. Was this gimmick bound to end in spectacular failure? Yup, unless Weiner got really lucky. But he went for it anyway, biting off more than he could chew and ultimately choking. This should sound familiar.