(What's this post all about? See where I started off here)
Dear Mr. Malhotra:
My name is Debby Ferguson. I'm the tour manager for Arcade Fire. Congratulations on your recent lottery win, I certainly have fantasized about being in the situation you're in right now ;). The band is very flattered that you would reach out to them.
With regards to your inquiry, Arcade Fire does not normally perform private concerts for fans, however, after reading your letter they were very amused and they decided that given your location in the heart of NYC it would be possible to perform at a smaller venue (not an apartment or home though, for a number of reasons) if you were able to rent out the space, secure a hotel space, and pay their standard performance fee of $35K for a full set.
Let me know if this offer sounds agreeable to you,
A million thoughts were racing through Tom's mind. He didn't know whether to console him or punch him in the face.
"You're the dumbest person alive, you know that, right?"
"You're absolutely correct."
Normally, Amir was quick to defend himself to Tom in a situation like this. He'd explain his logic, the situational circumstances, elements beyond his control. Today he had nothing to say, so he just hung his head low. He ordered the second of what was sure to be many rounds from the bartender at McManus. He turned back to Tom, who was just getting warmed up:
"No, man, I mean it. How did you go from enacting your ultimate revenge to being down ONE HUNDRED THIRTY MILLION DOLLARS?!"
"Technically it's one hundred twenty seven point five..."
"Don't you correct me, I'm not done yelling at you!"
"You think I don't already feel enough like an idiot?"
Tom was one of the few people that didn't change his behavior or the way he spoke to Amir in any way since he won the lottery. It was a combination of his incredibly longstanding relationship with him, and the fact that as an investment banker, he was already making more money than he needed. When Amir asked him what he could buy him as a lottery present, Tom told him he wished he had won the 'time lottery,' because he wanted his 20's back.
"So wait, why exactly do you have to follow through on this? Did you swear on a stack of bibles or something?" Tom asked.
"I told you. I got interviewed after I did it. There's gonna be a story in a hundred newspapers tomorrow about 'the most altruistic guy in the world' donating all his lottery winnings."
"You promised to donate ALL of it?" Tom was voicing was getting louder, and he was gesticulating madly, almost consciously begging the rest of the bar to join in and berate Amir.
"Well, I think I backpeddled a little bit, saying I still had some student loans I probably wanted to pay off..."
Amir almost couldn't believe it himself. Could he actually commit to doing that? And would it actually be anything close to a good deed, if it was done as an act of one-upmanship?
Tom wasn't letting up: "Of course you commit to this the same day you quit your job with extreme prejudice."
"That's the long and the short of it." Amir wondered if he should flat-out apologize for his poor life decision to his friend that actually had to suffer none of the consequences.
"But what about all of our plans? What about buying the Red Sox and then disbanding them as a team? What about organizing the world's longest topless conga line?"
"Forget all that crap - I was gonna buy a kick-ass apartment right here on the upper west side. And a car! I could walk in to a Ferrari dealership right now and buy a car IN CASH, crash it immediately, and then go back and do it again!"
Just then Amir saw a familiar face coming in through the entrance. He turned to Tom and gave his first smile of the night: "At least this'll be a fun little relationship test for Bonnie. Ready to see some conflicting emotions?"