I hang out with rich people, volume 6. Four ways to feel rich even though you’re not.

In an Intergalactic Business Report podcast, our editor, Dusty Latouffe, said that I was hard to get to know because I distance myself from anyone I don’t consider to be mega wealthy. That hurt. 
 
Let me get something straight. I don’t hate poor people because, from my point of view, that would mean hating 99.999999999% of human beings and that would be crazy, right? 
 
I’ll admit it’s true that I spend almost all my time with the most successful and rich humans on the planet. That’s my thing. Don’t try to take it away or judge me for it. Your thing might be being poor and watching football games on t.v. I don’t know and I don’t care. The point is, we can respect each other even if we feel disgust and an urge to vomit when I think about your horrid lives and what you need to do every day just to exist. But that’s what respect is all about. So have some.
 
I want to tell a story that I think will make my point better than anything else. And in the end, I’m going to give you four ways you can feel rich even though you’re not. (If you’re one of my ultra-rich friends, and you’re reading this, this obviously isn’t intended for you. This is for all the poor people.)
 
Anyway, I was on a helicopter with my good friend Jacques (as always, I’m making up that name, and making it sound French as a disguise). We were flying over the alps and I asked if we could just jump out and have the pilots find us later.
 
Jacques, who was being a douche that day for some reason, looked at me like I was crazy. He explained that it would be too dangerous and even questioned why I would come up with such a stupid idea. At that point, I found a fucking parachute and jumped out. 
 
The moral of the story? I did what I thought was right and I succeeded. The next day some “search party” found me and I threatened to sue Jacques as a half-joke but also to teach him a lesson about being such a dick. 
 
During my time wandering around the alps for a day, I learned a lot about myself and about the super rich. 
            
1. Why didn’t they put food inside the parachutes? They look like backpacks anyway, and they could hold caviar, alcohol, little sandwiches, or whatever. I was fucking starving and pissed when they found me. Strike one.
 
2. Jumping out of the helicopter was awkward and even felt a little dangerous. Why didn’t they build a little “jumping” platform on the side, so guests could easily parachute when they wanted to? Seems like a minor thing, but it could make a big difference. And it’s not like Jacques couldn’t afford it. Because he was thoughtless, I scraped my ankle when I jumped. Guess I have to add that to the lawsuit. Strike two. 

3. When the search party found me, they weren’t very celebratory. I expected some kind of party when they arrived. They could have easily set up a tent and had drinks and music and some fucking food. But instead they all looked poor and worried and took me away on some shitty snowmobile. Strike three. You’re out. 

I know I promised you those four ways you could feel rich even though you’re not. But, since I’m heading to an elite jam where only rich people are welcome, I’ve run out of time. So, I guess I would advise you to just look within for those answers. And pick four of them. My limo’s here. Later days. 
 
Darryl Smurten reports on the mega- and ultra-rich. His up-close insights about how they live provide even common peasants the ability to glimpse, if for a moment, into the light of the good life. If you are ultra-rich and don’t know Daryl yet, and would like to invite him to hang out with you, please contact him at [email protected]. Don’t expect him to get back to you right away.