HorrorFighter
Member
The following notes (printed from a laptop), transcript, and photo are all from an up-and-coming business Reporter who was preparing an article about the Asset. The piece was never finished, no portions of it were ever published, all other copies (hard and digital) have been destroyed, and all related materials (e.g., recorder, laptop, phone, camera) remain boxed with this file.
REPORTER NOTES
I am frantically typing this in the back of a cab, off to meet him at his office. We just finished dinner, and I feel like there is a lede in here and I don't want to lose my thoughts before we begin the interview proper. I'll leave it rough and leave some notes for myself to reconsider later.
Masa is the stuff of legend, even among the most jaded Manhattan gourmands (note: Maybe foodies instead? I just hate that word). The restaurant can only accommodate 25 diners, and reservations are as rare as many of the ingredients on Chef Masa's menu. The chef himself refuses gratuities, as well as suggestions. There is no menu, and for a price that commonly may approach as high as $1,000 per diner, you find yourself completely in the hands of the mastermind behind perhaps the most expensive restaurant in New York City. Fortunately, the chef's deft hands have never left a patron disappointed (note: will more juvenile readers read that as a double entendre? May strike from first draft), as he prepares each 26-course meal with the same care that a doting mother may lavish upon her newborn.
Given the strict rules and tight quarters of this culinary Mecca (note: Weak metaphor? Poor analogy? Not PC?), you can imagine my surprise when, upon my arrival, I was ushered into a spacious private room -- something that I never knew existed within Masa. (Note: I need to call around and ask about this room. I bet some food critics don't even know about it. Crazy) My host was already in attendance, standing in his typically stiff manner, as though his entire fortune tottered on his posture. And what a fortune he has amassed. Despite being the apparent black sheep of his distinguished family -- a black mark fairly bestowed, if even a small portion of the rumors about him are true (note: I wish I could print some of those but he'd probably sue me…or worse) -- he has managed to carve out a place among the Manhattan crème de la crème as a shrewd venture capitalist (although his portfolio remains unknown).
He greeted me warmly and once I had settled comfortably into my seat, he beckoned over the only other person in the room -- a person, whom I must confess, startled me, as the crisply dressed and groomed middle-aged man (note: ageist?) had emerged from the shadows without making his presence known prior.
I quickly discovered that this man was a sommelier, a position I would not have expected in this small-staffed Japanese restaurant. I suspected my host might have actually brought his own sommelier, a notion so ludicrous and yet not entirely out of the realm of possibility once you get to know him. I also suspected the sommelier -- who had the air of someone who was completely confident in his profession -- was wary of my host. He trembled -- just enough to be noticeable -- as he presented the host with the cork and began to pour.
Here, my host asked if I enjoyed pinot noir. When I answered in the affirmative, he explained he had had a Domaine de la Romanee-Conti Montrachet flown in especially for this occasion. I nodded politely, not knowing of this particular vintage or why it required air transport, but knowing that if I did not show some sign of being impressed, I might offend my host. He also assured me that the same flight included a bottle of Domaine de la Romanee-Conti Montrachet chardonnay as well -- noting that the meal Masa was preparing was so eclectic, we might have to switch between red and white throughout the evening. (Note: Verify spelling of wines, read up on pairings. I can't tell if he was having a joke at my expense.)
It was at this point that nerves got the better of our sommelier. The poor man flinched, ever so slightly, causing some of the red wine to spill down the outside of the host's glass.
(Note: Is this next part too much editorializing? I may end up killing this whole paragraph. I have to say though -- this guy scared me, and that's not easy considering I once was part of an assignment shadowing senior writers who were interviewing cartel leaders about their bank accounts) This host's reaction was as horrid as it was short-lived. He grimaced as though he had just witnessed the most unforgivable act in the whole of human history, but, just as quickly, a bright smile spread across his face -- a smile that I found far more disturbing than the grimace. It was a smile that concealed truths while suppressing a desire to commit atrocities which might one day become additional secrets hidden behind future smiles.
Damn, I just arrived at his office, so I'll need to write up the rest of this back at the hotel after the interview. Still don't know about that last paragraph. The dinner itself was fantastic, but I swear he never stopped smiling and that freaked me out so much. When we finished, he sent me ahead, apologizing and explaining that he had some sudden business that required his immediate attention. Frankly, that was good news as far as I was concerned. I was relieved to get away from him for a little while. Christ, how can someone be so charming and creepy at the same time? I'm almost tempted to call off the interview and go back to the hotel. I just need this article to get me on the map. This is the kind of clip that can make my career.
TRANSCRIPT
I typed this up verbatim from the Reporter's audio recording -- an interview in the Asset's private offices following the dinner at Masa. I hate typing, but no way I would assign this to anyone else.
Asset: I trust you appreciated the meal?
Reporter: I've had good food before, but I can't think of the right adjective to describe that.
Asset: Sinful comes to mind.
Reporter: As long as that's the most sinful thing on the menu this evening.
Asset: For you or for me?
Reporter: Both, I hope.
Asset: I suppose, although the night is young.
Reporter: It is, but I don't want to take up too much of your time tonight.
Asset: You seem nervous. Is that why you wish to rush off?
Reporter: Not at all. I just want to be respectful of your time. Since you had to deal with some business after dinner, I'm sure you are very busy.
Asset: No rest for the wicked, as they say.
Reporter: Is that how would you describe yourself?
Asset: Wicked? No, that would not top the list of words I use to describe myself. Others have described me that way though.
Reporter: Who? Business rivals?
Asset: Rivals of all sorts, none of whom is of any consequence.
Reporter: Sounds like maybe I should change the subject.
Asset: I think that would be the wisest course of action.
Reporter: I'd like to know a bit more about your business…
Asset: I'm sure.
Reporter: Not personal business. Business business.
Asset: Fire away.
Reporter: If you don't mind me saying, you've always been on the periphery of the New York financial scene. Certainly you would appear at all the right parties, and it was clear you had wealth, but your work was a bit of a mystery.
Asset: I dabbled. A little bit of this, a little bit of that, a little bit of him, a larger chunk of her.
Reporter: I don't follow. Can you clarify?
Asset: I can. I shan't.
Reporter: OK. Well could you talk a bit about your current business then? Venture capitalism, I believe?
Asset: Among other dealings. I like to think I have an eye for what people desire, and I invest in these things. When pleasure is involved, profit is never far behind. Beyond that, I do some consulting. Just as I can identify what people want, I can also identify what they don't want. In the latter cases, I can pinpoint a problem and eliminate it -- for a fee, of course. I must add, however, that eliminating things is also a bit of a hobby.
Reporter: You have a small staff?
Asset: Is that a euphemism?
Reporter: No, I mean…you have people who work for you. A small group of people.
Asset: I see them more as an elite group. They possess rare talents, some of which less inventive colleagues might see as shortcomings. My insights give me a keen perception of unnatural value upon which I can capitalize.
Reporter: You clearly think highly of them. Do they think highly of you?
Asset: You would have to ask them.
Reporter: I'm asking you.
Asset: Very well. These people are not my friends. They do not have to like me. To be blunt, I detest most people, including the people with whom I work. So, no, I would not say that they think highly of me. I would say that they respect me. I am comfortable with this arrangement. As long as they respect me, little else matters. They have jobs to do. If they follow my directions, their opinions of me are irrelevant.
Reporter: You're sure they respect you.
Asset: Of course. Why wouldn't they?
Reporter: Why do you think they respect you?
Asset: Because I do not manage from an ivory tower. I manage from the trenches. From the front lines. My clothes may be more expensive than theirs, but I am not afraid to roll up my sleeves, so to speak. I am not afraid to ruin a good manicure and get my hands bloody.
Reporter: Dirty.
Asset: I beg your pardon?
Reporter: Get your hands dirty, you mean.
Asset: If you say so.
Reporter: Can we stop for a couple minutes? I'll keep the recorder going, in case we catch something fun and candid. But really I was hoping to get a few pictures that I can show to the photographer before we schedule the photoshoot. I think this office has some very interesting visual possibilities.
Asset: What do you have in mind?
Reporter: For starters…if I could get you standing in front of your desk, facing me, so that we get the desk and the background in the picture. The view of the skyline is wonderful. I'll just snap away…
Asset: How many photos do you require? Shall I adjust the lighting?
Reporter: Please. Say cheese. Oh.
Asset: Is there something wrong?
Reporter: I just noticed…I can't believe I didn't see it earlier. It's just a bit clearer in this light.
Asset: Please do not make me ask again.
Reporter: Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. It's just that…when the wine got spilled earlier, some of it must have splashed on your face.
Asset: Preposterous.
Reporter: There is red on your face.
Asset: Are you sure I am not blushing? I do sometimes grow embarrassed when I receive too much attention -- and I have been the center of yours for hours now. It is fortunate that I keep mirrors in most rooms. With the aid of this reflective surface, we shall get to the bottom of this mystery with my face.
Photo taken from Reporter's camera.
Reporter: You see what I mean?
Asset: Indeed I do. This stain was rather careless of me. I can assure you that you are not seeing wine on my face, but you would be correct to conclude that the sommelier is responsible for this mess. It seems my post-dinner business with him was not some of my best work. I wish you had not seen the aftermath in this fashion. On the plus side, I am happy to report that I got nothing on my shirt. My tailor would never forgive me otherwise.
Reporter: If it's not wine…
Asset: Wine. This conversation reminds me that in my haste to handle my business, we never had the opportunity to enjoy a digestif. I shall correct this oversight immediately. I have a superb Mendis Coconut Brandy that we may share.
Reporter: That's really not necessary.
Asset: I insist. In fact, it is lovely out. I say we pour our drink on the balcony. You were admiring the skyline. The view from inside does not do it justice. Stepping outside will change everything.
Reporter: Really?
Asset: I guarantee it will take your breath away.
Reporter: Let me just grab my recorder.
Asset: No need. Turn it off for a little while. All work and no play…
Reporter: You're right. No harm in taking a break, having a drink, getting some fresh air.
Asset: No. No harm at all.
OUTCOME (ASSIGNED AGENT'S OBSERVATIONS)
Cause of death was trauma from a great fall, yada yada. Investigations concluded that the Reporter had too much to drink and slipped while bending over the railing of the Asset's balcony. Investments in the coroner and detectives were not substantial, relatively speaking, but I'd prefer that the Asset's behavior off the clock not drain our budget. I recommend that we discourage him from any further involvement with the media. This decision will bruise his ego, so it would be best to give him a high-profile assignment immediately to keep his sense of pride from getting too hurt. If the assignment is high-risk, all the better. I won't mourn if he goes out into the field and never comes back.
Also, I realize we can't put him back in the basement, but can we put him on the ground floor somewhere at least? This isn't the first time someone took a tumble several stories while standing near him. As one detective told me, "Your associate is like gravity's best friend."
We had to give that detective a bit more than the others, by the way. You'll see that in the expense report in a separate file with Accounting. I should have just asked the Asset to give the detective that bottle of brandy. I looked up the drinks mentioned. The air-shipped wine is expensive, but if I told you what that coconut brandy cost, you'd fall out of your chair. Good thing the Asset pays for everything out of pocket.
ADDENDUM
I don't think forensic odontology will be a problem, but we're double- and triple-checking to scrub any potentially problematic dentistry records from systems for the Asset. They found the sommelier -- or what was left of him, anyway. Poor bastard was covered in bite marks. Even after 26 courses (and initially skipping a digestif apparently), the Asset somehow managed to leave room for a second dessert.
REPORTER NOTES
I am frantically typing this in the back of a cab, off to meet him at his office. We just finished dinner, and I feel like there is a lede in here and I don't want to lose my thoughts before we begin the interview proper. I'll leave it rough and leave some notes for myself to reconsider later.
Masa is the stuff of legend, even among the most jaded Manhattan gourmands (note: Maybe foodies instead? I just hate that word). The restaurant can only accommodate 25 diners, and reservations are as rare as many of the ingredients on Chef Masa's menu. The chef himself refuses gratuities, as well as suggestions. There is no menu, and for a price that commonly may approach as high as $1,000 per diner, you find yourself completely in the hands of the mastermind behind perhaps the most expensive restaurant in New York City. Fortunately, the chef's deft hands have never left a patron disappointed (note: will more juvenile readers read that as a double entendre? May strike from first draft), as he prepares each 26-course meal with the same care that a doting mother may lavish upon her newborn.
Given the strict rules and tight quarters of this culinary Mecca (note: Weak metaphor? Poor analogy? Not PC?), you can imagine my surprise when, upon my arrival, I was ushered into a spacious private room -- something that I never knew existed within Masa. (Note: I need to call around and ask about this room. I bet some food critics don't even know about it. Crazy) My host was already in attendance, standing in his typically stiff manner, as though his entire fortune tottered on his posture. And what a fortune he has amassed. Despite being the apparent black sheep of his distinguished family -- a black mark fairly bestowed, if even a small portion of the rumors about him are true (note: I wish I could print some of those but he'd probably sue me…or worse) -- he has managed to carve out a place among the Manhattan crème de la crème as a shrewd venture capitalist (although his portfolio remains unknown).
He greeted me warmly and once I had settled comfortably into my seat, he beckoned over the only other person in the room -- a person, whom I must confess, startled me, as the crisply dressed and groomed middle-aged man (note: ageist?) had emerged from the shadows without making his presence known prior.
I quickly discovered that this man was a sommelier, a position I would not have expected in this small-staffed Japanese restaurant. I suspected my host might have actually brought his own sommelier, a notion so ludicrous and yet not entirely out of the realm of possibility once you get to know him. I also suspected the sommelier -- who had the air of someone who was completely confident in his profession -- was wary of my host. He trembled -- just enough to be noticeable -- as he presented the host with the cork and began to pour.
Here, my host asked if I enjoyed pinot noir. When I answered in the affirmative, he explained he had had a Domaine de la Romanee-Conti Montrachet flown in especially for this occasion. I nodded politely, not knowing of this particular vintage or why it required air transport, but knowing that if I did not show some sign of being impressed, I might offend my host. He also assured me that the same flight included a bottle of Domaine de la Romanee-Conti Montrachet chardonnay as well -- noting that the meal Masa was preparing was so eclectic, we might have to switch between red and white throughout the evening. (Note: Verify spelling of wines, read up on pairings. I can't tell if he was having a joke at my expense.)
It was at this point that nerves got the better of our sommelier. The poor man flinched, ever so slightly, causing some of the red wine to spill down the outside of the host's glass.
(Note: Is this next part too much editorializing? I may end up killing this whole paragraph. I have to say though -- this guy scared me, and that's not easy considering I once was part of an assignment shadowing senior writers who were interviewing cartel leaders about their bank accounts) This host's reaction was as horrid as it was short-lived. He grimaced as though he had just witnessed the most unforgivable act in the whole of human history, but, just as quickly, a bright smile spread across his face -- a smile that I found far more disturbing than the grimace. It was a smile that concealed truths while suppressing a desire to commit atrocities which might one day become additional secrets hidden behind future smiles.
Damn, I just arrived at his office, so I'll need to write up the rest of this back at the hotel after the interview. Still don't know about that last paragraph. The dinner itself was fantastic, but I swear he never stopped smiling and that freaked me out so much. When we finished, he sent me ahead, apologizing and explaining that he had some sudden business that required his immediate attention. Frankly, that was good news as far as I was concerned. I was relieved to get away from him for a little while. Christ, how can someone be so charming and creepy at the same time? I'm almost tempted to call off the interview and go back to the hotel. I just need this article to get me on the map. This is the kind of clip that can make my career.
TRANSCRIPT
I typed this up verbatim from the Reporter's audio recording -- an interview in the Asset's private offices following the dinner at Masa. I hate typing, but no way I would assign this to anyone else.
Asset: I trust you appreciated the meal?
Reporter: I've had good food before, but I can't think of the right adjective to describe that.
Asset: Sinful comes to mind.
Reporter: As long as that's the most sinful thing on the menu this evening.
Asset: For you or for me?
Reporter: Both, I hope.
Asset: I suppose, although the night is young.
Reporter: It is, but I don't want to take up too much of your time tonight.
Asset: You seem nervous. Is that why you wish to rush off?
Reporter: Not at all. I just want to be respectful of your time. Since you had to deal with some business after dinner, I'm sure you are very busy.
Asset: No rest for the wicked, as they say.
Reporter: Is that how would you describe yourself?
Asset: Wicked? No, that would not top the list of words I use to describe myself. Others have described me that way though.
Reporter: Who? Business rivals?
Asset: Rivals of all sorts, none of whom is of any consequence.
Reporter: Sounds like maybe I should change the subject.
Asset: I think that would be the wisest course of action.
Reporter: I'd like to know a bit more about your business…
Asset: I'm sure.
Reporter: Not personal business. Business business.
Asset: Fire away.
Reporter: If you don't mind me saying, you've always been on the periphery of the New York financial scene. Certainly you would appear at all the right parties, and it was clear you had wealth, but your work was a bit of a mystery.
Asset: I dabbled. A little bit of this, a little bit of that, a little bit of him, a larger chunk of her.
Reporter: I don't follow. Can you clarify?
Asset: I can. I shan't.
Reporter: OK. Well could you talk a bit about your current business then? Venture capitalism, I believe?
Asset: Among other dealings. I like to think I have an eye for what people desire, and I invest in these things. When pleasure is involved, profit is never far behind. Beyond that, I do some consulting. Just as I can identify what people want, I can also identify what they don't want. In the latter cases, I can pinpoint a problem and eliminate it -- for a fee, of course. I must add, however, that eliminating things is also a bit of a hobby.
Reporter: You have a small staff?
Asset: Is that a euphemism?
Reporter: No, I mean…you have people who work for you. A small group of people.
Asset: I see them more as an elite group. They possess rare talents, some of which less inventive colleagues might see as shortcomings. My insights give me a keen perception of unnatural value upon which I can capitalize.
Reporter: You clearly think highly of them. Do they think highly of you?
Asset: You would have to ask them.
Reporter: I'm asking you.
Asset: Very well. These people are not my friends. They do not have to like me. To be blunt, I detest most people, including the people with whom I work. So, no, I would not say that they think highly of me. I would say that they respect me. I am comfortable with this arrangement. As long as they respect me, little else matters. They have jobs to do. If they follow my directions, their opinions of me are irrelevant.
Reporter: You're sure they respect you.
Asset: Of course. Why wouldn't they?
Reporter: Why do you think they respect you?
Asset: Because I do not manage from an ivory tower. I manage from the trenches. From the front lines. My clothes may be more expensive than theirs, but I am not afraid to roll up my sleeves, so to speak. I am not afraid to ruin a good manicure and get my hands bloody.
Reporter: Dirty.
Asset: I beg your pardon?
Reporter: Get your hands dirty, you mean.
Asset: If you say so.
Reporter: Can we stop for a couple minutes? I'll keep the recorder going, in case we catch something fun and candid. But really I was hoping to get a few pictures that I can show to the photographer before we schedule the photoshoot. I think this office has some very interesting visual possibilities.
Asset: What do you have in mind?
Reporter: For starters…if I could get you standing in front of your desk, facing me, so that we get the desk and the background in the picture. The view of the skyline is wonderful. I'll just snap away…
Asset: How many photos do you require? Shall I adjust the lighting?
Reporter: Please. Say cheese. Oh.
Asset: Is there something wrong?
Reporter: I just noticed…I can't believe I didn't see it earlier. It's just a bit clearer in this light.
Asset: Please do not make me ask again.
Reporter: Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. It's just that…when the wine got spilled earlier, some of it must have splashed on your face.
Asset: Preposterous.
Reporter: There is red on your face.
Asset: Are you sure I am not blushing? I do sometimes grow embarrassed when I receive too much attention -- and I have been the center of yours for hours now. It is fortunate that I keep mirrors in most rooms. With the aid of this reflective surface, we shall get to the bottom of this mystery with my face.
Photo taken from Reporter's camera.
Reporter: You see what I mean?
Asset: Indeed I do. This stain was rather careless of me. I can assure you that you are not seeing wine on my face, but you would be correct to conclude that the sommelier is responsible for this mess. It seems my post-dinner business with him was not some of my best work. I wish you had not seen the aftermath in this fashion. On the plus side, I am happy to report that I got nothing on my shirt. My tailor would never forgive me otherwise.
Reporter: If it's not wine…
Asset: Wine. This conversation reminds me that in my haste to handle my business, we never had the opportunity to enjoy a digestif. I shall correct this oversight immediately. I have a superb Mendis Coconut Brandy that we may share.
Reporter: That's really not necessary.
Asset: I insist. In fact, it is lovely out. I say we pour our drink on the balcony. You were admiring the skyline. The view from inside does not do it justice. Stepping outside will change everything.
Reporter: Really?
Asset: I guarantee it will take your breath away.
Reporter: Let me just grab my recorder.
Asset: No need. Turn it off for a little while. All work and no play…
Reporter: You're right. No harm in taking a break, having a drink, getting some fresh air.
Asset: No. No harm at all.
OUTCOME (ASSIGNED AGENT'S OBSERVATIONS)
Cause of death was trauma from a great fall, yada yada. Investigations concluded that the Reporter had too much to drink and slipped while bending over the railing of the Asset's balcony. Investments in the coroner and detectives were not substantial, relatively speaking, but I'd prefer that the Asset's behavior off the clock not drain our budget. I recommend that we discourage him from any further involvement with the media. This decision will bruise his ego, so it would be best to give him a high-profile assignment immediately to keep his sense of pride from getting too hurt. If the assignment is high-risk, all the better. I won't mourn if he goes out into the field and never comes back.
Also, I realize we can't put him back in the basement, but can we put him on the ground floor somewhere at least? This isn't the first time someone took a tumble several stories while standing near him. As one detective told me, "Your associate is like gravity's best friend."
We had to give that detective a bit more than the others, by the way. You'll see that in the expense report in a separate file with Accounting. I should have just asked the Asset to give the detective that bottle of brandy. I looked up the drinks mentioned. The air-shipped wine is expensive, but if I told you what that coconut brandy cost, you'd fall out of your chair. Good thing the Asset pays for everything out of pocket.
ADDENDUM
I don't think forensic odontology will be a problem, but we're double- and triple-checking to scrub any potentially problematic dentistry records from systems for the Asset. They found the sommelier -- or what was left of him, anyway. Poor bastard was covered in bite marks. Even after 26 courses (and initially skipping a digestif apparently), the Asset somehow managed to leave room for a second dessert.
Last edited: