The tartiest dish at a Baltimore Thanksgiving this year was not the sauerkraut, but the Vegas cocktail waitress Michael Phelps took to dinner at mom's.
Caroline "Caz" Pal is a buxom brunette who shows up on Web sites like Beverly Hills Pimps and Hos covered in tattoos and not much else. She's also the girlfriend and holiday dining companion of Phelps, according to a People magazine report that quotes "a source close to Pal."
Credit People for breaking the story, but give the New York Post props for playing up the angle of Phelps' "school-marm mother" meeting "a tattooed strip-club waitress who has bared her chest for photographers almost as many times as the Olympic swimming star."
"Olympian's mom meets strip gal," the Post headline read.
How'd that howdy-do go? Debbie Phelps did not return my message seeking comment.
Coulda gone one of two ways. Either Debbie Phelps reminded her son that she sacrificed all those years so he could become an Olympic hero, not an international playboy. Or, laughs all around.
The latter is possible if the whole thing came down to one of those classic mix-ups over who's bringing what to the holiday potluck.
"You wanted cocktail napkins?" I imagine Michael saying. "I thought you said cocktail waitress!"
I also imagine Debbie Phelps was understanding.
Much has been made of the bond between the swimming sensation and his single mother. There's no greater testament to their relationship than this: Most men wouldn't take a gal like Pal home to meet mom.
Pal may be a lovely young lady once you get past her racy photos. (For the most part, the pictures I saw had strategically placed lollipops and the like to cover some of her up.) And of course it's unfair to expect Olympians to live up to all that mom-and-apple-pie shlock we heap on them. Do we expect other athletes, say, professional football players, to date "nice" girls?
Phelps has every right to date whomever he wants, even someone who makes his see-through Speedo pics look demure. But please don't make us watch - especially as we're also watching an aw-shucks profile of the guy on national TV.
Anderson Cooper reported on 60 Minutes the other night that since the Olympics, Phelps has been relaxing, doing a little foundation work and "building the Michael Phelps brand." Is that what you call it? I once worried that Phelps was cheapening himself by pimping Frosted Flakes instead of Wheaties. But Vegas hotties? They're gr-r-reat for the brand!
