This afternoon a friend of Richie Boy walked into the diamond exchange. It was the end of the day. Kwan wasn’t wearing a suit. I had never really spoken with him. The Wall Street trader had a high opinion of himself. His clothes had been purple lapels and his cars ran faster than the State Troopers lining the highway to the Hamptons. Like every other time he didn’t say hello and I didn’t mind, because I blamed him and his ilk for the end of prosperity.

“Can I speak to Richie?”

“Sure.” I surveyed Kwan’s wardrobe. His suit was a year old and the shirts were frayed at the collar. He was hitting bad times and I waved him into Richie Boy’s office. I watched them through the darkened glass. Kwan dropped his head into his hands. Richie Boy was saying nothing. He was hearing a confession. I saw money change hands. Richie Boy was an easy touch, especially for down-on-their luck friends needing money. I just hoped that their was enough money left in the house to pay salaries on Friday.

Kwan left the office without saying a word.

He was no longer a master of the universe.

Richie Boy joined me at the window.

“Kwan’s busted. He was getting sued by his ex-partner and the judge decided against him.”

“How much?”

“Ten million.”

“Shit.” I had gone through $100,000 in the last year.

“And we thought we had it bad.” Everyone was looking for a miracle. They looked to the skies, but the UFOs were staying clear of Earth. We were broke and ET was waiting for us to get broker.

“We’re lucky, because we know how to scrap and guys like Kwan made their money easy.” I had no respect for Wall Street. I considered them scum.

“Listen, I made a good living off them.”

“They were no better than crack dealers.” In actuality the crack dealers had been more honorable.

“Maybe, but Kwan’s my friend.” Richie Boy owed him money. More than he could pay today, but no one broke gets an even chance in this world.

“It’s getting tough out there.”

“We’re in a recovery.” Richie Boy was a true believer in capitalism.

“Yeah, right.” I trusted in cash. The economy was a year away from revolution, but I couldn’t say that in White America. They still drove SUVs.

We closed the safe and headed off to the nearest bar. They were serving oyster for $1 each. It was the new soup kitchen.

Let them eat oysters.

I like the ring of that and I supposed so had Marie Antoinette before the deluge.