I flopped down in the almost empty lobby and sipped the complementary coffee. It was awful. I should have known, at a place like this.
An old lady wearing her weight in diamonds and walking two poodles looked down her nose at me. I’m sure she was outraged by my jeans and t-shirt. I gave her the finger. She turned away, obviously horror-stricken.
The concierge came over.
“Sir….” He seemed pained to use the word.
“There he is.” Musk pointed at me. Bezos grinned.
“Elon! Jeff! Let’s talk rockets,” I said. “Right after I sell this piece of junk hotel.”
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Word count = 100