the cold hard green stuff

We have a neighbor who’s youngish (our age), eccentric, charming when he wants to be, highly notorious (and envied and worshiped by many, many males), possibly a touch crazy, and actually quite generous — to the point where he’s contributed to causes yet kept himself anonymous, in order not to ‘taint’ the event in question with his reputation. He decided to purchase a Tesla Roadster and dropped over one night to pay for it.

He paid in cash.

Cash.

He handed over a yellow envelope filled with stacks of cold hard cash (which my husband immediately whisked away to a more appropriate venue). It was like something out of a Quentin Tarantino movie.* When I wondered aloud how a person comes to have that much currency just kicking around his house — a very nice house — a female friend couldn’t help remarking, “Maybe so he can throw it all on the bed, and his [attractive young female visitors]** can roll around in it.”

Then he headed off to South Beach with our other neighbor, who’s been brilliant and famous at what he does for so long he’s now a legend in his industry, and every now and then he’s even represented onscreen for a few minutes by some actor playing him in a movie or TV movie about someone else. Our Famous Neighbor is about forty years older than our Notorious Neighbor, and we’ve had them both over for dinner. Which makes for an interesting dinner. “He’s like a father to me,” the Notorious Neighbor told me. Sweet. A touch disturbing, perhaps…but sweet.

And speaking of things that are Tesla-related, my husband E is receiving a Global Green award next weekend, which means a trip to New York for the both of us. So yay. “We’ll be sitting at the same table as Gorbachev,” E informed me oh-so-casually. “Did you know this?” I did not.

* Would have been ever better if he’d delivered it in a suitcase, but you take what you can get.

** Not exactly the phrase she used, but you get the idea.

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