Looking in the Dallas Storefront Window

It's not often but occasionally I get a combination streak of curiosity and masochism and I go uptown to see how the other half lives. Bastards! That should be me. Man, I can't tell you how uptight I was. Much as I try, I can't relax. Nothing happened. Cop cars didn't come screeching up in front of me and haul me off. I just kept thinking they would. I'd heard stories of wild women around uptown, throwing themselves at men and slipping their room numbers under mens' doors at Hotel ZaZa. I thought, if I could just get enough money for a night and scam some nice clothes somehow, then maybe...See? Plans like this go through my head all the time. Always working an angle. It sucks but what else have I got? Anyway, once I heard it's $300 a night I was like "forget that!" I was born to be rich. I just feel it. There are tons of cool places around here. Little specialty stores I was dying to go in to (I didn't have the nerve to go in anywhere). All these neat eateries where to dine. An Aston Martin passed by me as I watched a whole bunch of people dressed either for a wedding or a prom headed into the Hard Rock Cafe. I even saw a place called the Idle Rich Pub. Now there's a place for me! Looking inside all these windows I kept asking myself, "Who are those people?" No one gives me a second thought good or bad. I am persona non grata. I want to scream out to the world that I'm somebody. There is a famous restaurateur here named Phil Romano that does a feeding program called Hunger Busters for the homeless. It's interesting because they always try to recognize you as a person but I have given up on anyone on the inside actually seeing me. There have been a couple of people who've recognized my intelligence and they automatically assume I've fallen from some lofty perch with a white collar job and a yuppie life. They want to help me get back there. Christ, what a spot I'm in! Always freaking explaining. It's tiring. What really got to me down here is the incredible condo/loft construction going on. I know I said I'd buy 5 homes if I won the lottery. Maybe it would be 10. The more I wandered around, the more cool abodes I found. I dreamed of life within their gates and I saw the warm glow of lights within as dusk was setting in. So otherworldly. Yet part of me was peaceful not to be part of that. I'd have to get in on my own terms. For me, it would have to be like Gordon Gekko: "I'm not talking a $400,000 a year working Wall Street stiff, flying first class and being comfortable. I'm talking about liquid...Fifty, a hundred million dollars - a player. Or nothing." Anything less is just a nicer form of cage. Even then I don't like the idea of being dependent on money for freedom. Any space I can claim for myself now cannot be bought by the richest man in the world. I can't tell you what a great feeling of ownership that is. Problem is that spot can end up bulldozed by Dallas City Hall assholes at any time. They say it's inhumane for us to live like that. So they leave us even less. Here I am in a high rise condo, surveying my kingdom. The world is my oyster and I look down upon the little people stuck in their dreary lives. Look at them scramble to their jobs! All worried about bosses and bullshit and backups. Such a cheap existence. But man, it's empty up here. Even with money, I've got nothing.