Look at Me!

Look at me! I am very very famous. Please look at me. My friends at the table for this meal are also very famous. Look at us. The one directly to my right is possibly more famous than me. Hard I know. The man at the head of the table is not quite a household name. He’s lucky to be here. He knows he is not getting the check. We are all with the champ. Look at him. He’s famous in specific circumstances to specific people. Now you will all know him, whether you like fighting or not. You are searching his Instagram handle from the link in my comment. You are welcome, champ.

I can’t remember what I ate. That wasn’t the point. The bathrooms smelled nice with Aesop products. Dark with ambient music. Flat surfaces conveniently placed. Used to be a requirement but we all use our iPhones now. Don’t look at this. That part comes later.

Look at that, they brought the check. Sometimes places simply tell me it’s on the house. I pay them anyway. Big tip. When you are incredibly wealthy it doesn’t make a difference. But I do like to be offered things for free. Usually they want a selfie. That’s fine. Three million eyeballs worth of publicity for a $900 tab. Six people. Mostly drinking. The champ had two entrees. He’s the only one who knows where nutrients come from.

Can we get just one favor please? I would like a photo of this group please. So the rest of the world can look at us. The memories of my time together with this esteemed group of friends and colleagues frankly don’t matter for anything. You said something during the dessert that sounded profound but I don’t recall what it was because I just got back from the bathroom and the ambient music is still floating in my head along with the honking line. Look, just take the pic.

It is late. I am beat. But I have to get this filter right. You can’t have someone so famous and so rich staring at three million followers with a smug grin and a bunch of coke-specs on his nose. There is definitely a filter for this. You gotta check the gate, man. Lesson for next time you are looking, but before you look.

Post. Immediate gratification. Whoops, the champ isn’t happy. He’s not in camp. He enjoys getting fat during his downtime. The two entrees were very purposeful. He does look a little chubby. Internet condemnation. His opponent in 6 months is a strong contender. He’s seen this photo. Who hasn’t? He won’t be scared. He is no longer fearful. He’s not fighting the chiseled adonis from early career. He’s fighting someone with jawline fat who likes to have the agnolotti AND the raviolo. This motivates the challenger. This hurts me. The champ will hurt me. Look. We gotta keep a tighter wrap on things. I will yell at my assistant to make things better.