Sunday, May 25, 2008

It Takes So Little, Sometimes

Digging through the blogs one casual weekend and I see that someone (lacochran) has mentioned Donald Trump. You are being watched. The Trump organization, with its feelers everywhere, spied this blog entry and immediately attached a Google ad for Trump's new "Soho Condo Hotel", whatever a "condo hotel" is. I can't resist. I want to see how the upper echelon lives without having to endure Robin Leech's annoying voice. I click on the ad.

It's slick. Lots of Flash Player stuff, upbeat techno music, which you can actually click on and download directly from the site, artist images of extremely happy, apparently extremely wealthy, people enjoying the pool. Although no one is swimming.... they're all standing or lounging around in evening gowns and tuxedos sipping their drinks while there just happens to be a pool there. I guess if you spend hundreds of dollars for a swimsuit you don't want to ruin it by getting it wet.

So I start looking at the various links, the rooms with their plush chairs and window-walled views of the city (New York, doncha know); the bathrooms with their sunken marble tubs and more window walls so you can see the city, and, presumably, the city can see you while you're luxuriating in your Mr. Bubble -induced semicoma; wet bars; security closets; all the wonders of staying in Soho; etc.

Then I clicked on "Amenities". If you're staying in a penthouse suite, you have full access to a limo to take you anywhere you want to go in the city. You have your own personal butler, which they call an "Attach" (ew). But the real kicker is that they actually tell me that I have the unique privilege of being able to choose to write letters on Trump's exclusive "stationary" [sic]. They tell me the rag content of the "stationary" [sic]. They're really, really proud of this "stationary" [sic].

I suppose that, if I had the money and I was the type of egocentric turd who wanted the world to know that I had more dollars than sense, I might use the Trump "stationary" [sic]. "Dear Mom, Having a great time. Sorry you're so poor. Hugs & kisses, The Gilahi".

But we take our superiority where we can find it, don't we? I can't begin to tell you how much better I felt when I realized that these people who have been hired by Trump to create this amazingly slick website, who probably got more money for putting this together than I'll ever see in one place, don't know how to spell.

Am I pathetic or what?

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