Masters

It is always amusing when masters of the universe decide I need to know exactly how rich they are. It’s as if they believe their excessive wealth somehow confers automatic credibility and unquestioning respect. Hah!

Twice last night I carried passengers keen to establish their financial credentials. Sure, both had been drinking but sober or not, this is Sydney where it’s almost de rigueur to boast about such things.

Indeed, I’ve had friends do the same thing so why would strangers baulk at big-noting themselves to a taxi driver. It’s not like every cabbie has a blog, a camera and readers.

The first bloke started off by bitching how hard it was to retain trustworthy management for his burgeoning multi-million dollar business. Initially he presented the argument in relation to wanting to spend more time with his son.

By the time we stopped outside his waterfront mansion he’d managed to gratuitously convey how many properties and cars he owned; his monthly turnover; his greedy family; blah, blah, blah. Though being only thirty five years old his crassness was easily forgiven.

The second fella, however, aged around forty years old should have known better. An early surprise came with the unsolicited announcement that he was a Queen's Counsel. I guess if Lefty can make barrister by age thirty anythings possible for hotshot lawyers.

My passenger bragged of an art collection ‘worth three million dollars’. Woooh, I almost mocked. Plus he'd purchased oil and mineral shares back when they were relatively cheap, information revealed after the leading question, “How are you cabbies handling the fuel costs?”

Even classier was mention that his 'ex-wife' is the beneficiary of the stock. "As it should be,” he blithely added. What made this comment so stylish was the fact he was travelling with a Kings Cross hooker back to his chambers in the legal district, after midnight.

Comments

[Ian]

You meet the "nicest" people sometimes, Adrian :-)

[Kathleen]

goes to show money can't buy class

[Rainer the cabbie]

You got lots of money, Mr. Passenger ? Like the cabbie cares, the question one would really like to ask is, are you a decent person? I remember carrying a Lady a while ago who was going through a bad separation with her wealthy, darling of his community, legal eagle husband. I got quiet upset after she told me about the sadistic, oppressive and detrimental way he treated her and his kids, whilst his outside appearance was the golden boy. The world is full of high achievers as such, better being a poor cabbie than a rich dickhead. Money means nothing.

[Johnno]

Australian author Anne Hartley had this to say:
In the overall context of life, money doesn’t always count for much. Can you laugh, can you cry, can you love, can you care, are you there for your family, for your friends, are you generous, are you kind are you considerate? These are some of the questions that are totally unrelated to success with money, but without question count for so much in life.

[Jeremy]

What an odd remark.

[anon]

A 40 year old Queen's Council? That's an interesting claim since in NSW they replaced QCs with Senior Council's in around 1992?

If he really was 40 then that makes him about 25 years old at the time he took the silk.

[Dataceptionist]

...Money and Hair only seem important when you don't have any...

I just did a post actually on my blog about the ex-wife of Bob Jane and her inability to live on the $800K allowance she's currently allocated. Ridiculous!

[Reanan]

I hope the hooker stole his wallet.

Karma sucks.

[jesse]

I've also noticed (as a bartender at least, not a cabbie) that those people who brag about how rich they are never tip. Bastards. If you're so blinging, throw it in the tip jar for god's sake and I'll figure it out for myself, don't tell me about it all night. I have other people to serve.