Here it is, my tamest Black Table story:
It was May of 2003, and I was the Gawker.com intern. Nick Denton was having a party at his loft for Neal Pollack, and I invited the Black Table boys along. I ended up spending most of the party running around getting wine for people, which was maddening since I was trying to keep a close watch on the ever-drunker Black Table crew, terrified that they would get all of us kicked out. By the end of the party, they had ashed their cigarettes in an expensive-looking vase, written horrible things in a copy of Neal Pollack’s book, and stolen an old non-working cellphone (all of which I learned later). I gave up on making them behave, and somehow ended up hiding with Will in the shower of the bathroom as multiple party guests entered, did their business, and left. Don’t even ask.