Papa Bill, Mama Linda, Baby Monica

When Monica Lewinsky went to Washington, her first thrilling foray into independence and adult responsibility, she did what so many young people do when they leave the nest: she assembled a surrogate family for herself. She chose her father figure, Bill Clinton, even before she got to town, it seems, and won him over in a panty-flash. But finding a stand-in mother took a while. For a time Betty Currie, the President's secretary, seemed to fill the role, but when Lewinsky was transferred from the White House to the Pentagon, she apparently found a new mama: Linda Tripp. Lewinsky's dysfunctional household was complete, with the result that, ever since, the country has been bogged down in family court.

Whatever else the Clinton-Lewinsky scandal may ultimately be viewed as--grounds for impeachment, epic tabloid sideshow or the latest outbreak of puritan hysteria in the culture that gave us The Scarlet Letter--it already provides a cautionary tale about the dangers of instant intimacy. In the socially transient, lonely world of Washington, where betrayal is only a subpoena away, even between the closest confidants, and a flurry of quickies in a private bathroom can turn a couple, in Monica's words, into "sexual soul mates," fast friendship may be the ultimate danger.

What's often been said of Clinton--that the man has a gift for inspiring affection with a word of greeting and a handshake--may be even truer of Lewinsky. By the end of her grand jury testimony, according to the transcripts, the courtroom resembled an Oprah studio taping. The woman who'd used broad smiles and cute pet names to soften up the Commander in Chief had turned the grand jurors to pudding. "We've all fallen short," one assured her. "We sin every day."

If Lewinsky fell short in her dalliance with power, it might be because she was aiming so high. Furious about her expulsion to the Pentagon, the young woman who'd joked about "presidential kneepads" even before she hit town hinted that she'd expose their affair if Clinton didn't rehire her at the White House. Later, when it came time to leave the city, she stipulated that bigwig Vernon Jordan be the one to help her in her job search and presented a rather intimidating list of desired positions. "Assistant producer at any of the networks," her not-so-modest proposal began, ending with "anything at George magazine." (The George job never materialized, of course, and its editor, John Kennedy Jr., may have dodged a legal bill or two.)

Lewinsky was a small fish in a big pond, but not just any small fish: a puffer fish. Whether she was demanding entry at the Northwest Gate or presuming to advise the President on political issues, she knew how to blow herself up to several times her natural size. In one blast of unsolicited advice giving, she counseled Clinton to settle with Paula Jones by using the First Lady's bruised feelings as an excuse. Lewinsky even laid out a media strategy: "Mrs. Clinton should do something publicly, maybe on a TV show or something, and talk about how difficult the case had been for her and on [sic] her daughter..." Dick Morris and Mike McCurry, move over.