Rumbling past the Golden Pear Cafe in Southampton, home of the $22 breakfast burrito, the preteens are peering into the Lamborghini Huracán. On the curb to the right, gangly young males are gawking at the sleek black frame, bewitched by the guttural hum of the engine as the man behind the wheel, Anthony Scaramucci , holds forth.

In the course of this five-mile journey from his house into town, we’ve covered his Wall Street scenester restaurant, the Hunt & Fish Club; New York mayor Zohran Mamdani’s TikTok blitzkrieg against billionaire financier Ken Griffin; the cyclops in The Odyssey ; and Scaramucci’s betrayal by the crypto fraudster Sam Bankman-Fried . (“ Bloomberg wrote an article about me,” he says.

“It was like reading my obituary before I died. I mean, it was really fucking bad.”) Riding with the Mooch, the conversation zooms along at a mile a minute, even when you’re crawling down Main Street in peak-season traffic.

He explains over the leopard growl of the Lambo that he’s really a lowkey guy.

“People think I’m wackadoodly extroverted, but I’m actually more of a nerd than you would think,” he says. “I’m more of a homebody, to be honest.” Something on the control panel, a dazzling array that suggests this vehicle is fit for interstellar travel, starts buzzing loudly at irregular intervals like a dial-up modem on the fritz.

“This area, it’s a more relaxed vibe,” he says as we roll through the farm fields and relatively modest estates north of Route 27, closer to his house. “It’s not an area to impress.

I mean, the cars are a little ostentatious, I admit that, but I grew up in a motorcycle family. I worked in a motorcycle shop for ten years of my life in Port Washington with my uncle, and every type of car imaginable came in there.

I was like, ‘All right, I’m gonna go live the American dream, make some money, and then I’ll own myself a Lamborghini.’”

We’re headed toward the upscale supercafé Sant Ambroeus, his coffee spot.

“I’M MORE OF A HOMEBODY” Our host poses with Leia, his young cavapoo, in the kitchen of his second house on the block.