The Super Rich And Their Coronavirus Bunkers
I’ve been reading about the super rich and their coronavirus bunkers that they are buying and building.
And I want to know: Are these millionaires and billionaires prepared to clean and maintain these bunkers with their swimming pools, hot tubs, filtration systems for air and pools, bowling alleys, shooting ranges, underground 400 acre lakes, entertainment systems, and whatnot?
I don’t see the Kardashians being skilled in anything more than smoothing the blankets on their beds.
One of these bunkers will be 3 million square feet, room for 5 to 10k people. Will they build a wall down there and behind that wall will be cleaning and maintenance crews? Will they make sure there’s an engineer and mechanic down there for their cars? These lower echelons will want their families with them, too.
What happens if their cleaning, engineering, or mechanical departments get sick, or die, or God forbid, want a day off?
And what about doctors? Will family physicians be sufficient, or will they want heart, lung, bone specialists? Will those specialists want to go into this bunker, or will they have one of their own? Or perhaps, many doctors will have noble impulses and want to stay aboveground.
There will have to be law enforcement with a population of five thousand to ten thousand. Every small town needs a shuruff and deputies. There should be a teacher or two, as well, unless Kim K knows how to teach her kids algebra.
What about the cooks, seamstresses, hair stylists, tennis coaches, masseuses, personal trainers, computer techs, pool boys (named Raoul), who will need their families, too? Will the rich need doubles of all these people so their “help” gets a day off now and then? And if they’re single, what if they want to marry the billionaire’s daughter? Or son?
My, my. I see a novel here. Things aren’t quite as bright in a rich man’s world as I originally thought.
4 thoughts on “The Super Rich And Their Coronavirus Bunkers”
I’m betting they wont need a Sunday School teacher. After hiring Raoul the pool boy and Fifi the dog groomer – and Carlos the tequila maker, cant forget about him – no one will think about getting one of those, what you wanna bet?
Or maybe Joel Osteen will build one for just preachers and Sunday School teachers. Contemplate for a second on what that would be like, and one can see why the Howells might not think they need any at all.
But really, when one considers the fact that Thurston and 500 of his closest friends would completely overlook that – or that if they get one it would be Oprah or Deepak – maybe life topside without them looks pretty good. Its what the Pilgrims did, and we turned out okay.
Unclear last sentence. I meant life topside without the Howells and anyone who would want to be in a bunker with them.
True thing: In the middle of nowhere small town South Carolina, I grew up with a guy named Raoul, the whitest kid you ever saw. Mom and dad’s names were something like Edith and Harold, they worked in the local textile plant like everybody else. Raoul was pronounced “Rowl”. “Hey Rowl, get your old man’s cigarettes and we’ll smoke them behind the Bantam Chef.” Like that.
And if you dont know what a Bantam Chef was, you just dont know what 70’s summertime in the textile town south was like. Think about this way: the Howells wont have one in their bunker. We survivors of Armageddon can find an old one get her going again, park a Grand Prix (pronounced Gra…nevermind), rock and roll.
I’m starting to look forward to this. You kinda got me hoping this virus thing gets out of hand.
Found it! Now I gotta get my cigs and find Rowl. Rowl. Hahahaha! Poor Edith and Harold. They had fancy dreams once. Or maybe Edith had a fling….
When I worked at the new Palm Springs development, one of the houses had a MIL unit at the top of the house. One elderly woman came in with her daughter once, and she asked me what it was for. I told her it was for Raoul, the pool boy. And I wiggled my eyebrows. She was so tickled by that, and nudged her daughter, a woman in her 60s. “Did you hear that? Raoul!”
Don is on board with dystopia, too. He loves stories like this. You two can go out hunting–smear your faces with mud, and bring back a boar.
Oh, Lordy. Being stuck underground with Joel? How crazy would he go if money was unnecessary and there’s be nothing but his own ration to collect? He probably already has a bunker under his mansion.
Someone else said they’d prefer topside. I told him the rich folk would send guys out to drag him down there, anyway. They need more cleaners. Mwahahaha!
Actually, for the novel, I thought about religion. And imagined 5 or 10 thousand people all bickering over the “right” way to do things. I think you’re right; I’d just as soon stay up top and take my chances with the Left Behind.