Essay/Term paper: Dinner with bill gates

Essay, term paper, research paper:  English Literature Essays

Dinner With Bill Gates


[The time is the late 1990's and the setting is an unidentified city in the
northwest United States, in Washington. Three employees of Microsoft, the
narrator, Encolpius, and his co-workers Giton and Ascyltus, have been invited to
the illustrious mansion of billionaire Bill Gates, for a banquet.]

It was slightly drizzling as we approached the house. We were simply
amazed at it's size, it was a good quarter mile in length and equally long in
width. As we approached the enormous wooden door, lights flicked on and a
computer generated voice greeted us. Not knowing what to do, we waited, letting
the rain soak our dinner suits. When the door was opened, we were prompted to
enter by a servant. Stepping into the entrance way, our coats were taken by a
different servant than the one who had opened the door. We were ushered into a
nearby room, an enormous lounge of some kind furnished with an indoor volleyball
court, arcade and a pool. Giton and I were simply amazed. This guy had an
amusement park in his living room. There were some young boys on the volleyball
court, playing a game. I couldn't help but notice a middle-ages guy, dressed in
a pair of worn jeans and a sports coat, watching the game with furious intensity.

I turned to the servant, our guide, I suppose, and asked him who this man
was. "Oh that's Master Gates, the proprietor of this house. You'll be dining
with him shortly."
The servant led us through this room, past the pool and into a narrow
corridor. This hallway was adorned with pictures of Bill Gates, in various
characters and positions. The only one I recognized was the cover from the
recent issue of Time Magazine featuring him on the cover.
From here, we were led into the dining room and seated at the large
dinner table. The table occupied a majority of the room, however, there was an
enormous hole in the middle, obviously for a dinner show of some kind.
Immediately, our glasses were filled with wine and our hands were scrubbed with
rose water. I looked at Ascyltus, and he was simply amazing at the luxurious
nature of the dinner. I suddenly felt underdressed but I was relieved when Bill
Gates entered, wearing a different, much darker shade of jeans and a simple, red
pullover.
Once Bill Gates seated himself, the dozen or so people in the room all
silenced themselves, waiting for this legendary man to speak. "Welcome to my
home," he began, "I hope you will have an enjoyable evening."
At the snap of his fingers, a rotating dais rose from the center of the
room. This dais was filled with an entire orchestra and when it had finished
rising, they began to play a soothing melody.
We waited about five minutes and were amazed when a troop of singing
busboys exited the kitchen, all carrying trays containing some of the rarest
delicacies known to man. Caviar, truffles, and the sweetest meat I have ever
tasted were all served has appetizers. My two companions and I indulged
ourselves until a second troop of singing busboys carried our plates away.
Suddenly the room was filled with a loud crash as a busboy lost footing and
dropped his tray. Scrambling to save face, the busboy fell to his knees and
began to scrape up the mess. All this time I had been watching the expression on
Bill Gate's face. He didn't seem to mind that the busboy had ruined his
luxurious carpet with half-eaten caviar; that was until he began to clean up the
mess. "Get out of here you incompetent fool! You're fired and if you're not
off the premises in five minutes, I'll set the dogs on you," he yelled. Two
guards, appearing out of thin air grabbed the busboy and escorted him from the
dining hall. At the beckoning of their master, two maids entered the room,
armed with brooms and spray bottles full of cleaning implements. As they began
scrubbing the mess, the three of us glared at Bill, who now appeared calm and
composed. He must have seen our puzzled expressions because he quickly said, "My
servants must not step out of their duties. I hired that busboy to serve food,
not to clean up accidents. Had he concentrated on the task I hired him for,
that tray would most likely not have been spilled." An awkward silence filled
the room, however, it was quelled as the orchestra broke into another song and
the singing busboys delivered another course, filet mignon served over linguini
drenched in a sweet red sauce.
The food was delicious, however, I was too disturbed by the evening's
previous incident to finish my meal. After the singing busboys carried our
plates away, Bill retired to the restroom. With Bill's absence the tension
quickly dissipated. Giton, Ascyltus, and I conversed with several of the other
guests about our host and the incident earlier to this evening. Our relief was
short lived, however, Bill shortly returned to dinner, now sporting a pair of
khakis and a light green blazer. He quickly cracked a joke about the size of
his bladder and sat down. At this point, another course was served, pork from
the finest pigs Bill Gates could find. We knew this because of his constant
bragging. We were all getting a little sick and tired of Bill's need to gloat.
Bill was an amazing man, he rose from poverty to the billionaire he is in a
matter of thirty years, but he seemed insecure, always having to explain and
glorify himself. Suddenly, there was a knock at the dining room door. When Bill
ordered the door to be opened, two people, a man and woman, stumbled into the
room, thoroughly intoxicated. I did not recognize either, but Bill seemed to
know the male. "Habinnas, my good friend, have a seat," Bill greeted the
newcomer. After sitting, Bill served them some of wine we were drinking. I
found it kind of funny, wine was the last thing this Habinnas person needed. It
was at this time Giton and Ascyltus begged me to leave, however, I was too
captivated by this newcomer. He was talking to Bill about some great plan of
his, to release his servants and send them off with one million dollars each. I
began to once again respect Bill Gates until I discovered the reason why he was
going to release them. "I want people to remember me and love me for my
generosity when I am dead. I don't want to die detested and loathed like so
many other billionaires," Bill whined. I was furious, Bill Gates, my boss, the
man I've looked up to for years was an insecure, self-centered, man. Even in
his attempt at being generous, he had his own personal interests at heart. I
suddenly because very nauseous and wanted to leave immediately. By the looks on
my companions faces, they wholeheartedly agreed with me. All this time, Bill
Gates was rambling on about his death and going around the table, asking each
person why they would miss him if he should die. Luckily for us, he faked a
heart attack, fell backwards in his chair, and crumpled to the floor. All eyes
were on him, who looked remarkably dead. Bill must have become irritated at the
silence in the air, because he threw his head up and asked us to pretend he was
dead and say nice things about him. This was just plain revolting, not
something I'd expect to see at a dinner party with Bill Gates, owner of
Microsoft. It was at this time my two companions and I snuck out of the dining
hall and found our way to the front door. We grabbed our jackets and, taking
one last look at the enormous house of this not so ideal roll model, left,
exhausted and disgusted.