My Mooch rematch

SCARAMUCCI, of whom you may have heard, finally showed for the Police Athletic League luncheon he earlier ducked and screwed — and gave a $25,000 donation.

He introduced me as “Head of the Anthony Scaramucci fan club.” At Catsimatidis’ table, I had to promise I’d be nice. A former award-winning Girl Scout who never goes back on her word, I am hereby nice. The guy’s smart. Slick. Spoke rapidly. No stumbles. Held the crowd. Never at a loss for even five-letter words. I asked, “You ever apologize to Donald Trump?”

Answer: “I was in Washington 11 short days, 86,000 seconds, two Mondays, one Friday, part of Saturday. Yes, I apologized to him. I made a mistake. I’m sorry for the mistake. What I did was wrong. But you have to take the millstone off your neck. You must go forward.

“I didn’t think I’d last superlong because of the job it is. But when Gen. Kelly fired me, I took it like a man.”

I do not repeat people saying his two minutes of fame are over — because today I am being nice.

He asked why I don’t like him, I explained because he chickened after making two appointments to meet me. He said he’d never made that commitment personally and doesn’t know how I thought he had. But . . . like I said . . . he’s smart.

He suggested a private talk after the luncheon. Nice. Good. But I split instantly. On account of because he dissed me — I dissed him.