It was a hot night. My Wife and I were both tired and sunburned. We sat outside the Crabtrap in downtown Amelia Island waiting for our table. I stared at the two brand new Honda Goldwing motorcycles that were parked together beside the curb in front of us. Wealthy-looking attractive people paced impatiently around us, waiting just as we were for a table. An SUV with 2 attractive LSU college girls pulled up in front of us, followed by a car with 4 college guys inside. The girl driving the SUV rolled down her window and motioned for the boys in the car to follow her into the parking lot. Then they all parked and came to wait with us in the heat. This was the place to be and to be seen, apparently.
An older woman, who appeared quite wealthy especially in light of the expensive German luxury car she had been driving, walked past us all. She had professionally dyed brown hair and large breasts. Her clothes were perfect and expensive. She was very important, of that she was clearly certain, and the hostess seated her immediately. The rest of us continued to wait. My Wife and I were soon seated shortly thereafter. We had waited for 20 minutes.
Our table was for 2. We were up against a short half-wall. Not six inches from us was the Wealthy Woman who had been seated without delay, also sitting at a table for 2. But unlike us she was alone.
Not long after, the 2 LSU Hotties and their Pack of Pursuing Boys were seated at the larger table to my left. I watched with amusement as the brunette who had been driving the SUV clearly manipulated the scene, playing the boys as best she could while her attractive blonde friend smiled and enjoyed the benefits of her friendship with the social coordinator and master manipulator.
As we sat waiting to place our order I saw a man come in. He was old, but had worked hard to look youthful and wealthy. He, too, was seated immediately. In fact, he was seated with the Old Rich Woman 6 inches from our table. His pants were off-white. His shirt, a delicate button-down, was orange. His hair was perfect and even the lines on his face looked as if a master surgeon had carefully crafted them. The man and woman greeted one another with plastic smiles.
My mind wandered to the rest of the people in the room as our waiter finally came and took our order. I was very tired and mostly just observing the crowd in a daze.
After placing our order I became aware of the Rich Old Man speaking. “That’s a board decision. I always feel that this is the sort of thing only the board should decide.”
He went on and on about “the board” and I quickly gathered that he and the old woman were quite important, or at least wanted to be perceived as such. I was reminded of the old reruns of “Are You Being Served” in which the big-eared incompetent director is always making highly reverent and pretentious references to “The Boardroom” and as he does so he raises his eyes, almost as if worshipping God.
Clearly I watch too much TV.
On and on The Old Couple talked about their importance, working long and hard to establish, perhaps only to one another, that their breeding was quite proper and their money exceedingly plentiful. Yes, they were both rich and powerful people and it was vital to any future merger between them that this be mutually agreed.
This was not love, but a business arrangement, or so it appeared. But no, it was a date, apparently their first. And soon to be their last.
The Beautiful Young Brunette from LSU had apparently decided that at least 3 of the 4 boys were acceptable for her purposes. She left the table briefly and stepped outside to make a phone call. Soon another beautiful blonde girl they called “Hash” entered the restaurant and sat down at their table. She shined like the sun because she was so beautiful. And yet, oddly enough, the fourth boy paid little attention to her. He seemed distracted, playing with his cell phone. He had a game going and wanted to focus on it. His large, muscular friend seated next to him more than made up for Gameboy's lack of attention to the beautiful girls. He was sitting next to The Brunette and across from the first blonde, paying proper attention to each of them and frequently flashing his smile their way to reassure them.
Hash soon got up and moved over to a seat between The Brunette and The Stud. Gameboy never even noticed that Hash had left her seat, which was directly in front of him, and moved away. It was clear why The Brunette only felt that she needed one more girl. Gameboy wasn’t ready for a woman. Why waste a friend on him? Three girls, three boys, and a child. It was going to be a good night.
Suddenly the conversation of the Rich Plastic Couple intruded on the show I was watching over at The Brunette’s table.
“The first thing I want to do is take you and get some decent clothes. I want to buy you some shirts. That one is quite out of style,” the wealthy old woman with perfectly dyed brown hair and large breasts said with only a hint of a smile.
The wealthy white-haired man responded immediately. “I’ve dated plenty of women much younger than you, many of whom were quite high up in the fashion industry, and I’ll have you know that they found me to be very fashionable!” he hissed properly through perfect porcelain crowns.
“Well, that was surely a long time ago,” she countered. “That shirt is out of style. I want to outfit you properly.”
It got confusing from there, as they trailed off, debating the merits of the fashion industry in general for reasons perhaps only God himself could comprehend. And then The Rich Old Man made one last shot in his defense. It was clear that he was more than slightly insulted.
The Rich Old Woman then responded, without smiling and without the slightest hint of sincerity in her voice, “I was only kidding.”
They had arrived separately and it was clear that they would be leaving the same way. But even so, they both looked marvelous, and that was the most important thing.
Meanwhile, the College Dating Set had made their arrangements and left for a more private destination. I suspect the only one among them who didn’t get lucky that night was the Gameboy.
The Icy Old Wealthy Couple appeared to have struck out, with each presumably returning to their beachside mansions for another night of drinking wine alone in front of the TV.
I imagined them when they were younger, probably both attractive and treacherous, gleefully screwing people in their business deals, raking in the money and enjoying the life of backstabbing, sociopathic predators. How many people’s lives had they happily ruined? How many careers? How many bodies had they trampled in pursuit of the wealth and power that they now wore like a suit of armor?
I thought about them and their cold, bitchy, narcissistic personalities. I thought about the irony of their loneliness. For just a moment a brief flicker of hope appeared inside of me. Is it possible that there might be justice in this world?
Perhaps.
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