Before the term “photobomb” was coined, Billy and I were invited to a post-Grammy party at the Four Seasons Restaurant in NYC. We lived there then–me at APA and Billy at Goldman-Sachs–on the 33rd floor in an apartment building with an unobstructed view of the World Trade Center.
The place was packed, we were drunk, and I spotted Patti LaBelle and Meatloaf coming toward this narrow passageway between two party rooms. Photographers converged.
“Billy, go get in the shot!” Without a second’s hesitation, he positioned himself well and here is the prize of that moment.
Happy birthday, Guyster. You’ll always be 39, salt will always threaten your pepper, and your birthday cake’s candles will forever burn.
