The reason that I’m not focusing on just one person here is that the rich boys or heirs that I know with funny or at least interesting stories are unfortunately also my good friends, and they’ll kill me if I write about them here, even anonymously.
It’s too bad because a couple of them come from families with a hilarious source of wealth. For example, there’s Jonathan (clearly not his real name), whose father owned the biggest and most luxurious hostess club in Hong Kong. The club had a Rolls Royce in the lobby to chauffeur you to the interior so you didn’t have to walk for ten seconds. I’m guessing I don’t have to name names because it’s pretty obvious which hostess club this is. Jonathan’s dad sounded exactly like what you’d expect him to be: he loved to party, he married a beauty queen twenty years younger than himself (Jonathan’s mom), and he was buddies with gangsters and shit like that. Jonathan, on the other hand, is the complete opposite: he had really great grades and went to a top university, and I’d better stop here because he’ll be sending me pissed-off text pretty soon.
I’m not even going to start on this other dude because he’s like a brother to me. Yes, it’s you, dude. I’m not going to write about you at all because you have too much dirt on me.
To be honest, my encounters with asshole rich boys are extremely limited because it’s easier for me tolerate fucked-up rich girls than fucked-up rich boys. Let me explain why: there’s this particular rich asshole in Hong Kong whose father is a gangster and this dude owns a club and restaurant. When I was working in the music industry, this one time, I was having lunch with a few colleagues, including the president of the company. We were talking about holding an event at this club, and the president asked me if I’d ever met this dude. I said yes, and the president shook his head and said never to go on this creep’s yacht because it was basically a gang rape boat. Later on, I also met someone who was only fifteen when she got invited to the secret VIP room at that club and was drugged and raped.
See what I mean? This rich boy is one of the extreme ones, but the minor ones aren’t that much better. A long time ago, my then-boyfriend and I got invited to dinner by a former friend, who was visiting Hong Kong with her husband. She also invited this other dude, Asshole (not his real name) who came with his date.
I’m old so I’ve experienced quite a few really awful dinners in my life, but this one was so terrible that even after more than fifteen years, I still remember it. We had dinner at Café Deco on the Peak, and Asshole drove up in his Ferrari, which I only know because it was the first thing that he mentioned when he arrived. He sat at our table and even before saying hello or introducing himself, he said, “I hope MY FERRARI is safe in that parking space.”
Obviously, this dude wasn’t from Hong Kong–the details are fuzzy now but I believe he was from the US because he couldn’t speak Chinese–because, Jesus Christ, it’s not as if a Ferrari is an unusual sight in Hong Kong. Does anyone even look at a Ferrari in Hong Kong?
Asshole’s date was a white girl, and during the meal, aside from talking about his Ferrari and how much money he liked to spend, he talked about how much he loved white girls. I don’t think his date spoke a single word although she drank a lot. He mostly directed this to my boyfriend, who was the kind of guy who made insecure guys really freak out. My boyfriend wasn’t rude or anything like that, but he is a six-foot-four Chinese Canadian dude who speaks fluent Cantonese and has that working-class Chinatown attitude of not being easily impressed by anything outside of food and…maybe cartoons? Anyway, so most dudes really like him because he is offbeat and hilarious, but there are some dudes who just can’t bear that he has so much self-confidence, and Asshole was one of them.
So Asshole spent the entire meal unsuccessfully trying to impress my boyfriend, and it was such a miserable experience that at one point, my boyfriend looked at the balcony overlooking the bottom of the mountain and wistfully said, “Do you think I’d die if I jumped over the balcony or would I just get really hurt?”
I took the coward’s way out and pretended that I had diarrhea and hung out in the women’s bathroom talking to the attendant there until my boyfriend texted me in desperation.
I made it back to the table where Asshole was just concluding, “So that’s why I only date WHITE GIRLS.”
My boyfriend (puzzled): But they’re white, though.
When it came time to pay the bill, Asshole said, “I can just put this on MY PLATINUM CARD and you guys can give me the cash for your share.”
My boyfriend: I don’t mind if you pay for the whole meal.
The final thing Asshole said to us as we were leaving was a smug “I’d give you guys a ride back to town but MY FERRARI is only a two-seater.”
Me: I guess the extra seats were too expensive?
Truthfully, I can actually imagine the kind of sad life Asshole probably had (and maybe still has), but ick. There’s also the equally yucky encounter I had with this scion of an entertainment industry family who introduced himself to me at a bar. I was talking to my friend, and upon hearing that I used to live in Manila, dude inserted himself into our conversation by saying that he was going to ride his private plane from Hong Kong to Manila for his friend’s coffee table book launch and then fly back to Hong Kong right away. He didn’t even bother saying hello.
Incidentally, I found out later that he was also obsessed with my friend’s restaurant, which managed to get a Michelin star while his own restaurant was snubbed year after year. I guess asshole comes through in the flavour of the food. Anyway, so dude would show up at my friend’s restaurant all the time, trying to spy on the kitchen and getting her mom (the head chef) worked up.
There is only one way to deal with rich boys like that, and it is to deploy your “Fuck off” face really fast upon meeting them or else you’ll be forced to listen to a lot of nonsense. Like this one other time with this rich boy–who wasn’t even a boy anymore, he was like a grown-ass man in his late forties–whose grandfather made money from transportation, allowing this particular rich boy to open a clothing shop chain and a couple of restaurants (seriously, what is up with rich boys and restaurants?). A friend of mine invited me to eat dinner at one of the restaurants he owned, and while we were eating, he swooped down on us and had our food taken away and changed it into something else without our permission. Like, I was eating pork or something and he switched it out for roast potatoes instead. The fuck! We also got charged the new entrees along with the old ones, which my friend was too timid to argue about, and I didn’t want to make a scene and embarrass her. Then he sat at our table and started talking about how we were so young (GROSS) and cute, he would take us out on a date together if he didn’t prefer white girls (yup, internalized racism also seems to be a common thread).
And to think I have even more stories but I don’t want to make people too depressed. Now I’m starting to understand why I needed so many drugs when I was younger.
Anyway, the only conclusion to all this is the video below. I’m just saying…