I want money. That's what I want.

Further evidence that (some) New Yorkers have way to damn much money.

Last night at Grand Central they were auctioning off a 2006 Lamborghini. The tickets were $1,000 a pop and 300 were sold. At a THOUSAND DOLLARS A TICKET. And it wasn't even for charity! So - what? These people all had a spare $1,000 lying around? "This thousand dollar bill is just taking up far too much room in my solid gold wallet!" I mean come ON! And it wasn't even a cool car! It was orange! Now if were a mint condition 1959 MG Roadster and I was, you know, insane then maybe I could see it, but these people seemed grubby and greedy, pocketing four hors d'oeuvres at a time and talking with their mouths full, sending bits of partially chewed salmon and spittle all over my tux jacket... Actually, I take it back. They seem exactly like the kind of people who would shell out $1,000 for a chance at a neon orange Lamborghini.

Passing hors d'oeuvres brings out the very worst in me. I think horrible, nasty, mean-spirited thoughts that I ordinarily never do (except in the subway. Awful thoughts are perfectly acceptable there) and I get really irritable and fussy and I cannot, cannot be pursuaded to laugh at stupid, inappropriate jokes (unless they are made by another miserable waiter. Then they are hilarious). I also can't disguise the look of envy/disgust that sweeps across my face every time I have to deal with the wealthy. As I removed a tray of lamb and portabella skewers from a group of overly perfumed trophy wives I heard one of them say, "Oh God, she hates me". I wanted to say, Lady, I don't hate you specifically. I hate all of you. I feel confident saying that every cater waiter feels this. Hell, I'll go out on a limb and say that every waiter feels this. It's why I feel a compulsive need to sweet talk my server whenever we go out. It drives Matt crazy but I can't help it. I want them to know that I'm on their side, that I won't inadvertently spit on them. And if I do, then I'll apologize and add a buck to their tip. I have fantasies of being wealthy enough to - just once - leave a "Ben Affleck" tip. (Remember when he tipped that poker dealer like $2,000 and J.Lo was horrified and went and took some of it back? Jennifer Garner would never do that.) Someday I just want to be able to leave a cool $200 on a $50 meal - something grand like that. That's gotta feel stellar, right?