Bill Gates

by McCutcheon
Billy Boy
Bill Gates is rich.

He is richer than you and richer than me.

He is richer than Switzerland.

Bill has more dollar bills than there are stars in the sky.

Despite all the money he hasn’t bought a small island in the sea. Like Ireland.

Bill just does his thing. And there are rumors that the frumpy moneyed Microsoft genius is frugal.

He eats the happy meal at Mc Donald's, drives his own car and is a bad tipper.

So what if he is a cheapskate? Doesn’t that just make it all the more fun?

Here is a man who could have whatever he wants. All the stuff ever invented, any whim satisfied, everything money can buy. And that much money can buy almost anything.

Me and my friends were talking down the pub. We started saying what we would do for money, because we are always broke it’s an exotic topic.

Trevor said he would sell his soul for a free round of beer.

Svenja said she would dance naked for fifty thousand. (I reminded her that she danced naked last weekend and we didn’t pay her a single penny. Shanta said she would give her fifty cents to keep her clothes on for a night.)

Larry said he would cut off his pinkie for a million dollars.

Natalie said she would give Bill Gates a blow job for a billion bucks.

I agreed with Natalie. Not only would I suck his dick for a billion dollars but I would give him the best damn head he ever had. My mother never raised me that way, but a billion bucks can buy a lot of dreams. I could make my films, I could get an editor and publish my stories, I could move to Paris permanently. I could eat more than one meal a day.

Bill Gates is a conversation piece. He is entertainment.

But the man means no harm. I don’t agree with all the modern day robber baron bullshit. He is who he is. I have seen him on the streets, at the movies and in downtown shopping centers. He looks like a nice enough bloke.

Not like some of the people who work for him. The overweight Dungeon and Dragon players, the skinny freaks with the thick glasses, the people who can’t get their heads out of the computer long enough to kiss a girl or look at a painting.

I think they used to be called nerds, but now they are called wealthy. (All that money and they still dress like shit. Maybe all they need is some Ecstasy and a Happy Mondays album.)

But I am worried about one thing. I have read my history books. I know things go around in circles. And there hasn’t been an assassination in a while. This being America I am not holding my breath. There are a lot of crazy people out there. Losers who have done shit with their lives. These people will stop at nothing for a little bit of infamous notoriety. And that is where Bill has to be careful. I would hate to see him go the way of John Lennon.

Money can buy almost anything. But it can’t buy life.

I bought Trevor his next round of beer. I could always use a little more soul. And as I paid, I thought money could buy all my friends, but it can’t buy friends like these.

I wonder if the richest man in the world is lonely.

What if the next time I saw him at the movies I gave him my script? Asked him to be the Executive Producer of my movie. Everybody wants to be in showbiz, right? It could be a hobby for him.

I would probably get arrested. But I can still dream.
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