Coffee at Starbucks With My Rich Friend
I used to regularly have coffee at Starbucks with a friend from long ago who became wealthy and obnoxious over the years. Let's call her Pamela. I tried not to judge her too harshly because, even rich people need friends.
I read a tweet today that said something like, "When I was 23, I wanted to be a millionaire. Now that I am a millionaire, I want to be 23." This Twitter person has over 100,000 followers. Okay, we get it: you are successful. Financially, anyhow. Tweet tweet tweet. Fly away, Twitter bird.
My Misspent Youth
Personally, I do not want to be 23 again. My partner pointed out that this might be because I was a single mother with a six year old at that age. I was a teen mother. At first. Then I was not a teen, but the stigma was a gift that kept on giving over the years.
Most people assume I was an unwed mother, but I was not. I had an idiotic marriage at the age of 16 to an emotionally abusive narcissist (maybe a sociopath, really). Where was I?
Right. 23 years old, in university, single parenting, and a social pariah. Maybe that is why I do not look back on those glory days with nostalgia.
Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?
On the other hand, I would not mind trying out being a millionaire. I have never tried my hand at being wealthy, and I think it might be a calling I have overlooked. I think I would be very good at it. Maybe not.
I think I would think of the people I know who are suffering and need more financially, and I would want to help. Eventually, my generosity would end in a return to my current financial state (i.e. not great, but better than many around the world, I realize). So, being a millionaire might not work out for me.
I (not so) secretly hate those people who run around proclaiming that a million dollars is not actually that much money. Okay, then, brother can you spare a cool mill? Or maybe more if a mill is not much?
My Other Rich Friend (Co-worker) From the Dot Com Days
During the dot com boom, I used to work with a lady who made a ton of money in the stock market and from vested shares. She was in her mid-twenties, and she and her husband were loaded. They bought their 2000+ square foot house in the suburbs with cash. They bought their BMW's with cash.
Then the bubble burst, and she came to talk to me one day. "I feel so poor," she said. "We had four million on paper and now, it is just over one million." That was hard to hear, but I try not to judge. It doesn't always work, but I put in the effort.
I said, "Look at it this way: you each have a nice car; you have a house that is paid off; you have good jobs, which pay probably double the national average, at least; you have a cool million in stocks. And neither of you is even 30!"
She said, "You really think we'll be okay?" She was serious. Yes. I told her I thought they would pull through.
On the one hand I understood her pain. They lost about 75% of their wealth, and that's a major financial hit. Huge. However, given their age and overall wealth, it was easy to understand why most of her friends were, according to her, "not very nice." I felt a bit bad for her. She reminded me of that girl from "Clueless".
Back to Coffee at Starbucks with Pamela from High School
Recently, I was having coffee with "Pamela" from high school, who I mentioned at the beginning. I had not seen her in quite a few years and did not realize she was well to do. I knew she was a doctor, so I knew she was not poor, but she was not doctor rich. She was "what the hell?" rich.
She pulled up for coffee in her Porsche SUV. Did you know Porsche makes an SUV? I found out that day. As we were drinking our very over-priced, underwhelming coffees at Starbucks, she started talking about her two daughters. The oldest was 12 at the time.
Source:
You're Never Too Young to Own Your Own Apartment, Right? Mortgages are fun!
She casually mentioned that she and her husband decided to buy them each their own apartment. Not to live in now, but for later. She said they considered just paying cash, but thought it would be more "fun" to get them mortgages. Then they could have tenants and the "fun" of seeing the mortgage get paid off over time. She said they had backed the mortgage with cash as collateral.
Sometimes, it's a real struggle not to show my judgmental face when people are speaking to me. I thought about how I had $100 at that time. Literally. That was all I had. Canadian dollars. Then I tried to take my mind off that and just be grateful that I was not in debt and I had $100!
The Luggage Room... I struggle not to judge.
Later in the same conversation, she told me that she and her husband had decided that they were sick of struggling. They traveled a lot, and the amount of suitcases they had was somehow hard to sort through, so she had come up with the idea of devoting a room in their home to luggage. Yes. A luggage room. As she described the room, I realized it was probably bigger than my bedroom.
It's hard not to compare with other people and their millions, their BMW's, their Porsche SUV's, their children's apartments (valued at $300K each!), and their luggage rooms.
Cold Comfort
However, there is one thing that I have that my millionaire friend from high school does not appear to have: taste buds.
I am not speaking of the good taste to not discuss one's wealth with a clearly less wealthy friend. Rather, I am talking about Starbucks, her "absolute favorite" coffee shop.
I do not understand Starbuck's popularity. They actually have not succeeded in several countries. It reminds me of "The Emperor's New Clothes." Their coffee tastes bad, and it is terribly overpriced. McDonald's coffee tastes bad, but at least it is cheap by comparison. Tim Horton's coffee tastes bad, is less costly, but has some weirdly addictive quality to it. Seriously, don't start drinking it unless you want to keep drinking it.
The other disappointing aspect of Starbucks is the baked goods. They are stale. Even when allegedly fresh. I have given up on their baked goods because, half the time, they are inedible.
Starbucks should market their own diet plan. The coffee and food are so bad: "Eat and drink nothing but Starbucks for 30 days and the weight will melt off."
Conclusion
Of course, this depends on having taste buds, which my friend clearly lacked, given her adoration of Starbucks. I don't meet up with this particular friend very often anymore. Not just because of the pandemic. Rather, it got tiresome hearing of her successes. I don't hide my economic situation, and it seemed almost cruel for her to discuss her budding real estate empire with, ummm, me.
You see, she got a taste for buying apartments, formed a holding company, and just kept buying them up. To hear her speak, buying real estate is like eating popcorn. You can't stop after just one or two. Then there was the custom furniture design for her real estate. It was a hobbusiness: a hobby that rich people engage in that happens to also make big money.
I don't miss our Starbucks chats, as you can imagine. I try not to envy anyone. To be honest, I don't envy her. It would be very convenient to have more money, but I truly do believe that being kind and compassionate are more important than money. Maybe if I had more money, I would feel differently?
The more compassionate side of me wonders how small she must feel that she needs to wave her financial success under the nose of, arguably, her least wealthy friend? I don't think a happy, secure person does that. Of course, I am often unhappy and insecure, but with no luggage room in which to consider the sad state of my affairs.
So, all in all, I am probably just jealous. However, with all her wealth, you would think she would frequent one of the many independent coffee shops in town. There is one lovely Italian one that springs to mind where you can not only get an amazing cup of coffee, but the gelato!!! Now, I want to go there. And I wouldn't mind trying out being a millionaire also. Maybe some day? I dare to dream, but it's not the most important thing to me. Maybe if it were, I would be wealthier? Or maybe it would just drive me crazier that I am not.
Honestly, I am grateful for what I have, but it can be hard to spend time with wealthy people who do not seem to realize that they are speaking to a person who is, by Canadian standards, quite poor. That is frustrating. Even as I write this, I am mindful that some people reading this will think my Canadian poverty is wealth, so I cannot understand how someone can be so oblivious when someone is sitting right in front of them with so little. Remember how I was trying not to judge? I think I just failed. I will take a deep breath and try again.
Maybe a nice cup of coffee home brewed in a Bialetti stovetop espresso pot will help? However, ours is a generic knock off, not the original Bialetti. I can't afford such luxuries.
