"Moscow Mule?" asks the waiter, as he proudly displays a sticky-sweet tray populated by an assortment of cocktails named after Russian donkeys. "Mule?" we italicize. He might as well have offered me a Burger Meat-tini. Still, thirsty, we drink. This is the last time our friend will come bearing gifts. You see, the private dinner to celebrate the launch of Unruly Heir at Bloomingdale's quickly devolved into a spectacle of starving socialites and double kisses at Thor.