For years, the political reporter had to work the room at fund-raisers, campaign events, and parties to develop contacts and sources so he could become the best at what he does.

Now, after a couple dozen years, he no longer works the room – the room comes to him.

He stands off in a corner at a recent holiday party attended by politicians, lobbyists, a couple of district attorneys, a retired police sergeant who happens to be the father of a famous actor, and a bunch of other movers and shakers. One by one, many of them come by to say hello and gossip.

Once he had to pump them for information. Now, they pump him because, almost invariably, he knows more about what’s going on than they do.

“Hey,” one political operative says while scanning the breaking-news function on his Blackberry. “NBC is reporting that Bernie Kerik getting is getting Homeland Security.”

“I know,” the political reporter says, drink in hand – and, as always, on the job. “They’re leaking it out.”

A political neophyte standing in the small circle of people in the corner expresses surprise: “I would have thought Rudy [Giuliani] wouldn’t let him take for fear that any screw-up Kerik makes would reflect bad on him.”

“Nah,” the old political reporter snorts. “Rudy wanted him out” of the former mayor’s security firm, Giuliani and Partners. “He wasn’t really doing anything anymore.”

Someone asks the old reporter if he thought Mr. Kerik, the former commissioner of the New York City Police Department and the city Corrections Department, would be good in the Homeland Security job.

“Hard to say,” the old reporter replies. “Kerik had ethics problems when he was police commissioner because he used cops to do research for his book, and there were a bunch of scandals at corrections that happened on his watch, even though they didn’t surface until later. Some of the guys who got in trouble were his guys.”

Those around him nod their heads and the talk shifts to Mayor Bloomberg and next year’s election.

“Is Bloomberg beatable?” someone asks.

“Everyone’s beatable,” the old political reporter replies. “It’s just that there’s nobody running who can beat him.” One possible challenger, Fernando Ferrer, a former Bronx borough president, “can’t win,” he says. “So who’s gonna beat him?”

“Why does a guy with a zillion dollars want to be mayor, anyway?” the political operative asks. “He’s had to take 84 steps downward in the way he used to live his life.”

“He doesn’t care about that,” the old reporter says. “He wants to be THE MAYOR. Let me tell you a story. Before he was officially running, I guess it had to be in 2000, he and Tina Brown hosted a victory party for Hillary Clinton when she won the Senate race.

“So, there he is, greeting all these people, all these celebrities, and Gwyneth Paltrow walks up. He shakes her hand and says he’s so happy to see her and all that. She didn’t know who he was. He doesn’t like that. Now, he’s the mayor and everybody knows who he is.”

The topic shifts again and a man who is running for district attorney in Brooklyn steps up and hands the political reporter and a couple of others in the crowd a colorful brochure about his candidacy.

“I guess it’s official now that you’re running,” the old reporter says with a laugh. “Once you have campaign literature, that’s it. You’re in.”

“So, are you the front-runner now?” someone jokes.

“Front-runner? Are you kidding?” the candidate smiles. “I’m fifth in a field of four right now.”

“Right where you want to be,” the old reporter says. “It’s too early to be the front-runner now. Everyone will take shots at you.”

The party goes on: The waiters switch from the appetizers to the trays of chocolates, and the supply of beer and wine starts to dwindle.

The district attorneys and a local Democratic Party leader have long since left, but stragglers are still coming in and the talk is still lively in the old political reporter’s corner.

Soon, the old reporter excuses himself, buttonholes a lobbyist, and asks for a private chat for a few minutes. They walk away and the old reporter’s audience drifts off.

The private chat may yield a story, or it might not, but after all these years, the old political reporter is glad the room now comes to him.