financial advice

you talk with your
financial
advisor, betty,
who has an office
over a Chinese
restaurant
in the city.
she tells you
that according
to what you've
saved and earned
over the past
four decades
that you need
three million
more dollars
in addition to
the three hundred
dollars in your
passbook savings
account to retire
and live a normal
life.
define normal, you
ask betty. she
taps a pencil
on her desk
and shrugs, I don't
know. food, clothing
shelter. that
sort of thing.
hmmm. you say
smelling the Chinese
food frying
in the room
below betty's office,
making you hungry.
how about this she
says, pulling her
chair closer
to the desk. you need
to meet a really
really rich woman
with a heart condition,
marry her, and
voila. she smiles,
her hands out, waiting
for you to laugh
along with her.
how much do I pay you,
betty, you ask
her. nothing, she
tells you, we're
friends remember?
right. lunch?
i'm starving for
some crispy beef
and a few egg rolls.
yeah, she says, a few
mai tais would be
nice too.