Tales of the elite dog store.

The other week I went out for a few beers with my one ex-neighbor who's from Louisiana and is a Katrina refugee and who used to manage a bookstore but now works at an extremely elite dog store in one of the most expensive neighborhoods in the city.

Right away, she dumped a lot about her job, right when we first met for the beer.

Like, middle-level rich people walk their dog around all day, but high-level rich people have someone to do that for them, and they just stay inside their apartments a lot, when they're not at another house of theirs.

One of those high-level rich people was once at her house in Miami, and she called the store for them to overnight ship her a couple of bags of dogfood that could be gotten anywhere, and the shipping bill was like $60, just as much as the dogfood itself, for like a total of $120.

"Like, we appreciate your business," she was like, "But, really.  I mean, she just knew to call us, instead of finding a store nearby."

After a pause, she was like, "It's just another world, money doesn't matter."

She also was telling me that another one of those megarich women is more ambitious than most, and what she does is move into an apartment and redoes it and sells it, and then she goes and moves into another apartment nearby and she does the same thing, and she just does that over and over and over again, moving like a block or a half block away and redoing her new apartment, all the time in this small little wacky rich neighborhood that's a few blocks wide by a few blocks wide.

She also said that sometimes she finds out little backstories about her customers, like the (fatter) (older) (rich) (white) woman with a little dog named "Schmokie" that she's always talking about, like calling up and ordering something for "my Schmokie," and it turns out that this woman is a highly lauded neurosurgeon who goes around the country teaching other neurosurgeons cutting-edge techniques, while her house husband stays at home, very likely with her Schmokie.

As an aside story, too, my one ex-neighbor said that this small-batch dog treat company sent in an order of treats that were darker than usual, and everyone was calling up saying that the dog treats were too dark and too thick for their dogs, and they needed lighter and thinner ones, right away, and it was either the mid-level rich customers themselves calling, or the servants of the high-level rich people, since the high-level rich people had told their servants to go and call the store for them.

"Their world is so wide and so small at the same time," she was like.

Too, her other two coworkers are hot, and when one of them commented that people treated her differently, she was like, "That's because I'm short and fat, life is always like that for me, open your eyes and notice."