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All Rights Reserved “Life After Money: www.lifeaftermoeny.com Copyright © 1998-2010 |
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12. My Money-Your Money It’s gone. It’s all gone… |
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Life After Money Part V Hurricane Spirits & the Halloween Souljacker. Index Sound Track Home |
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13. My Money-Your Money & Baltimore’s immunity to pain |
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A waiter informs Alex that a woman at the bar practically had a nervous breakdown after receiving a phone call and screaming into the phone: “What do you mean I lost everything, I invested with Bernie” This well dressed woman in her late thirties collapsed on the floor and is gently helped up by the staff and ushered to the door where she departed still in shock and is driven home by a friend, her unpaid bill left behind. As they wait for her Porsche to be retrieved from the valet a man approaches with a tin can and request an offering. Cassie the financially traumatized woman turns and screams “Fuck you” to the beggar who removes ten dollars from the bottom of his can and hands it to her friend saying: “I think she needs it more than me”. Cassie turns and grabs him with both hands and looks through her tears into his infinite blue eyes and hoarsely slurs: “I don’t need your dirty money, I had my own until ten minutes ago” and then collapses to the pavement as her high performance leased ride arrives.
The valet helps her into the passenger seat and off they drive slowly with no where to go but home the emptiness of life now ruining another Sunday of hedonistic tranquility and her carefully applied mascara too!
The table where Alex is seated is all the rush as people are craning to hear any tidbit regarding the life of Cassie the fallen angel. Alex upon learning of the unpaid debt reaches for a bread basket lined with a red napkin and drops twenty dollars in to help defray the tab and the hit her favorite bartender is about to endure. The basket eventually reaches its intended recipient Bruce who counts out a total of twenty three dollars to offset a two hundred dollar champagne and lobster sandwich bill left at the bar by Cassie in her formerly free spending ways.
The gossip barely returns to who is who’s new best friend and the newly anticipated future break ups when another phone chirps and another well dressed woman with long brown hair, beautiful complexion with a gifted smile quietly burst into tears and covers her mouth with the back of her hand as she takes leave for the bathroom. The entirety of her table of guests now quiet as an eerie calm descends on the patio as one phone rings and another until all told twenty or so persons now notified of their financial ruination this perfect Sunday. With the instinctual prowess of a wounded animal seeking a lonely place in the woods to die they one by one excuse themselves with all the dignity they can muster and depart the premises. Many bills are left unpaid some intentionally and some through a sudden collapse into shock or denial.
But one is left though to hold court. Markus concludes his conversation in public to a waiting gathering of the curious and concerned. The stereo now turned down and is barely audible. Some are wondering if this the end of the world and one young lady from the bar who is thinking exactly that and the beggar now seated next to her who seems to have telepathically scanned her thoughts replies out loud while resting his gaze on her soft brown eyes: “Yes it is” She replies: “Are you talking to me?” Again in a more audible reply that has attracted the interest of nearly everyone at the bar and beyond he repeats” “Yes it is the end of the world to them if they put their trust in money over God” Alex has now pulled up a stool next to the man while waiting for Markus to address the group with some sort of explanation. Markus looks towards Alex who signals Bruce to retrieve the karaoke cordless microphone from behind the bar. Bruce wipes the microphone down with the towel draped over his shoulder and hands it still smelling of beer to Markus who is now standing in the center of the floor alone.
Markus speaks into the microphone to a hushed crowd and explains that apparently some guy named Bernie was offering huge investment returns to people by invitation only and that he as a Jewish person shopped for investors at temple and charities meant to help persons of the Jewish faith and this morning he admitted to the FBI that his investment portfolio was out of control and he was simply using new investment capital to pay off previous investors or people who wanted out and that he has avoided detection for almost twenty years.
Markus stops to collect himself and then to a crowd stunned and silent continues: “and for persons like me who chased Bernie for years prior to receiving that phone call that he was willing to accept me as an investor I thought that I had finally made it, and like others who couldn’t make the type of returns Mr. Bernie was offering I gave him my entire life savings and then some.” Feminine gasps and under the breath words of “Oh my God!” are murmured from within the group of stunned onlookers. Markus pulls the microphone back to his lips and says: So that’s it, thank you for being my friends” and quietly hands the microphone back to Bruce who never left his side. Markus feigns walking to the bathroom but leaves through the kitchen and slips out back to walk the short distance to his soon to be former exquisite home. |
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The sun is now setting and the shadows on the patio are as long as the faces of the witnesses to such a calamity involving their drinking friends, acquaintances and neighbors in this south beach stretch that many dreamed of leaving New York and relocating here and paradise; their vacations for years diverted to this one community in the sun to hasten their timetable when that day would finally arrive and they could say goodbye to the taxes, regulations and black ice of New York to resume their careers or welcome their golden years in style.
Alex said a prayer for all of those who departed this late afternoon in such acute despair with some half drunk while talking on their phones or texting that they would make it home safe and not hurt anyone on the way. Alex once read that when a person is texting while driving they’re as impaired as if legally drunk!
One by one they drift away until only the staff and few locals remain at the bar. Alex, Bill and the stranger seated adjacent to Alex are all seated in a row with no vacant stools between them. Alex short for Alexandra turns and extends her hand in friendship to this youthful man with deep piercing blue eyes. He holds her hand lightly and says: “They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, do you believe that?” Alex replies: emphatically: “Why yes I do”. What if I may ask is your name? The stranger replies: “they call me Baltimore” “Well then Baltimore you must be hungry” She whispers as she leans into him. “Well indeed I am he replies.” She turns to the bartender and requests a menu but Baltimore interrupts her and says: “excuse me ma’am but if you would be so kind to just order something that you like and maybe we can share it and to tell you the truth I can’t read very well so a menu would not be much help” Alex turns to the waiter who has just arrived and says: “Please a thick cut of your well marbled rib eye roast with your signature Cajun gravy, a twice baked potato and your Caesar salad with grated parmesan and a healthy order of fresh breads. “How would you like the steak grilled?” ask the waiter. Alex and Baltimore in unison respond: “Medium Rare” they look at each other and laugh.
Just then Mr. Chang the chef owner approaches Alex and requests a word with her. Alex replies: “We can talk here, we’re amongst friends, right Bill” who feigns a half extended toast of a glass of champagne from the bottle left behind by Cassie.
Mr. Chang describes the situation of abandoned open tabs [132] and how he opened on Sunday specifically for this very popular meet and greet buffet. Alex inquires as to how much damage and Mr. Chang replies: “two thousand dollar.” Alex opens her purse and counts out two thousand dollars and then adds another hundred for the dinner and drinks for Baltimore. Mr. Chang bows in gratitude and respect and says: “You’re the best Miss Alex.” Mr. Change was smuggled into the United States in an elaborate cruise ship worker scheme and freed from his enslavement when an anonymous tip was received by the County Sheriff.
[13.9R]-Please load this link underneath the referenced photo. Thank you! http://www.examiner.com/article/obama-walks-out-on-restaurant-check-no-metaphor-here
8. The Killers-Sam’s Town-2006.3 |
