Admittedly, we were no slouches in our coverage of MariaGate, over the last couple of weeks. From the initial Code Red to trademarks, contextual advertising, and Jack Shafer’s “Why Won’t The Journal Come Out And Say That Those Two Did It?” we’ve been there for the highs, the lows, and all the pregnancy-scares in between. But Forbes’s article this morning, “Pity Citi” got us thinking—we’ve kind of been a heavy on the Maria, light on the Todd through this whole thing. Heck, we haven’t even made a ‘Todd Thomson’ tag for these stories. (Seriously—look at the bottom of this post—you’ve got ‘Citi’ and you’ve got ‘Maria Bartiromo’ but ‘Todd Thomson’ you have none. You also don’t have a ‘$Honey’ but good things come to those who wait). Previously, we would’ve answered the Q of “Why so much M and so little T?” with an A of “Um, she’s a saucy minx who, beyond not being afraid of interpreting ‘off the record’ comments by Ben Bernanke as ‘on the record’ comments, steadfastly believing that people are so enthralled by the moniker “Money Honey” that they’ll buy “jigsaw puzzles” and “coloring books” simply because they bear the rhyme, and thinking that she’ll be able to follow in inimitable the footsteps of (and ultimately surpass) Charlie “?Master” Rose, she also worked in the close vicinity of John McEnroe for several months back in 2005. If that’s not storybook, we don’t know what is. Anyway, “Pity Citi” blew the lid off of our hastily and superficially crafted notion that Maria was the star of this show because Todd-y boy was just too plain dull (allegedly cheating on one’s spouse? That’s it? Wake us when you kill someone, is what we would have said three hours ago). Thank god for Forbes, is all we can say—in the last quarter of the game Todd’s busted out some fantastic Hail Marys, much to our delight. (So you can’t say we didn’t get festive in the days leading up to Super Bowl XLI).
The Artist Formerly Known as the Dull Half of The (Alleged) Sex Scandal In The Sky:
+Had an office on West 51st Street and 7th Avenue "decked out like a Swiss chalet," Citi insiders say, and had the air of the inner sanctum of the Wizard of Oz.
+Said office had Persian rugs and a “sumptuous chandelier”
+Had what veteran Capitol Hill insiders call his own "Wall of Shame" in his office--photos of himself with the rich and powerful.
+His own personal, well-appointed boardroom on the 50th floor that virtually no one else at Citi could use. Inlaid with expensive marble floors, it stretches about 10 yards and has an immense oval, wooden table that can seat 20 to 30 people, a kitchenette and luxuriously polished wood cabinets lining the walls, Citi insiders say.
+Tended not to circulate among the plebes. But around Christmas time, he did venture out of his office "to get out and meet the little people," as one insider puts it. To do that, he got an executive from Citi's marketing unit to run interference for him. "She was like his security detail," say these people, her job more like a publicist moving a celebrity along the red carpet.
Pity Citi [Forbes]