Inside the Secret Lives of the Ultra-Rich: Shocking Tales from Luxury Hotels and Restaurants Revealed

Inside the Secret Lives of the Ultra-Rich: Shocking Tales from Luxury Hotels and Restaurants Revealed

They tipped me $300 so I forgave them quickly but that was such a rich person thing to do.

PersuasiveContrarian Report

Tl;dr at bottom

Used to work at an incredible restaurant in NYC, conveniently located across the street from a large block of very expensive apartments. One of the regulars was a well respected costume designer, probably in her early or mid sixties. It was not uncommon for her to eat every meal of her day there. Running gag that she’s crazy wealthy but lawl can’t feed herself. Cut to the night before a predicted Snow-pocalypse. It’s not supposed to start until ~10, but it’s already flurrying by 8. Right around 8 30, as we’re scrambling to beat the rapidly worsening snow-fall and inevitable, spontaneous MTA service changes, our friend starts knocking on the front door. I barely turn the key and she bursts through the door, “You’re not closed are you?!” All I could say back was, “Snow.” “Well, do you have bread left? Anything, really!” “No, I’m sorry. There’s nothing left.” She very over-dramatically exclaims “What’ll I do?! I’ll starve!” Then looks back at all of us, says, “Okay, thanks anyway. Stay safe!” We thank her, she turns towards the door, notices the snow again and turns back with, “Oh this is looking bad, what are you all still doing here? Get home!” She leaves, we have a hearty chuckle, and finish everything up. 10, maybe 15 minutes. We’re zipping our jackets to walk out the door and our friend is back. She heard that transit service would be bad (duh) and wanted to make sure we could all get to where we were going safely (aww). We assured her we were all fine, and she started to go but not before leaving us with “Well if any of you get stuck, just give me a call. When **partner** and I bought the top floor we figured the extra apartments could be work spaces, but now they’re just empty.” Then off she went, leaving my four co-workers and I flabbergasted. I still can’t believe that this person, in one 20 minute span, went from begging us for scraps of bread, to offering not even just a spare room in her apartment, but an entire apartment on her floor.

tl;dr Lady owns more apartments than I do matching sock pairs, but can’t buy herself bread.

anon Report

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At the end of the day, hospitality is about balance. Guests have a right to good service, yes, but also a responsibility to be decent humans. As Nikola says, “You can be rich and classy, or rich and chaotic. The choice is always yours.” 

Well, these posts definitely prove that some folks could use a crash course in basic manners and etiquette. What do you think—ever had the misfortune of dealing with someone like that in real life?

I was a cook in the #1 restaurant in Vancouver Wa. Around 2003-2009 a grandson of a huge hotel chain rolls up in his Lambo. He always ordered about $10 of food and tipped $100. He sat at the cooks counter and me being a line cook we hit it off for our love for college football.

One day he asked if I would come over to his house for a huge boxing match Maywether vs De La Hoya and cook for him and his family. I get there and he has several Lambos a huge house on the river and let’s me do whatever I want in the kitchen. I cook the meal for 4 people and he gives me half of his Filet Mignon and tells me to join them for the fight. I watched the fight and then cleaned and packed up and charged him $300 for the cost.

I get in my bosses car (mine was broken down and I rode my bike everywhere.) I look at the check I got and it said $1700. The cost to fix my car was $1400 so this covered it completely. I drove home with tears in my eyes. I cried myself to sleep that night. Making a cooks wages is crippling.

Fast forward to today I no longer work in the service industry and this guy just opened a homeless women’s shelter a few months ago.

I wish more more people who came into money had 1/10th heart of this guy.

Zombie4141 Report

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Story from my dads golf club. Its a really nice club in Canada and celebrities want to play regularly. The proshop gets a call and the interaction was something like this:

PS: pro shop, how may I help you?

Agent: hi im xxx xxxx, you may have heard of me im an agent for a very large celebrity…

Ps: sorry sir, i cant say I do.

Agent: well im an agent for a big celebrity and he would like to play there.

Ps: well he can play with a member or he can join if he likes. To join he would need to be nominated in.

Agent: well hes a pretty big celebrity.are you sure you dont know who I am?

Ps: pretty sure.

Agent: well he would like to play in his own group.

Ps: sorry sir, this is a private course. He can either apply to join or golf with a member. We would be happy to ask the members if someone would play with him.

A week later.

Agent: his its xxx xxxx calling back. Im sure by now you have figured out who I am and who i work for.

Ps: sorry sir, we havent looked.

Agent: oh, well im the agent for Will Smith.

Ps: thats fine.

Agent: he would like to golf at the club

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