Pocket Change - a list by RichardNouveau

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DB Burger ($120) from DB Bistro Moderne

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Who doesn't enjoy a juicy, gold and brown, accoutrement-tiered hamburger? Huh, what's that now? Veg-e-tary-ans? No, I'm sorry, never heard of them. However, if one were to come across my path I would surely introduce him or her to the incredibly succulent burgers at DB Bistro Moderne. I would toast their people with a wrist full of wine and happily convert them all to the gospel of Boulud. D.B., the inspiring architect of these Bauhaus burgers, chides the constraints of your typical carbo-mound and crafts a towering masterpiece worthy of my traveled tastes. As for these so-called Vegetanarians, I couldn't imagine why they would have such a beef? (via Pocket Change NYC)

Updated Aug 10, 2007

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NY Apartment ($70 mil) - The Penthouse at the Pierre

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I'm handsome because I'm handsome; you aren't handsome because you aren't handsome; this is why, this is why, this is why I'm handsome.

Oh, excuse me, I didn't see you there-one of my hobbies is translating rap lyrics in such a way that drains them of their charm yet highlights their grammatical intention. After I finish a good translation session I take a long, relaxing walk to the bathroom, where I look at myself in the mirror and practice angling my neck so as to indicate a spirit of jauntiness. After that, I take a longer, brisker walk to another bathroom, where I catch my breath while taking a bidet, then stand behind a shower curtain until Marisol comes to clean it. Then I jump out and clap sharply while screaming "Sorpresa!" (via Pocket Change NYC)

Updated Aug 10, 2007

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Omellette ($1000) at Norma's Le Parker Meridien

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Since the frittata to end all frittatas debuted in May 2005, only a dozen have been sold and four of those were purchased by me to be used as bases in a game of softball in my suite at the hotel. A friend -- who clearly didn't know me all too well -- inquired as to why I would do such a thing.

I told him my favorite tale of academia, which has been passed down through the collegiate Ice Luge for decades now, about the Harvard Philosophy professor whose final exam consisted of only one question: "Why?" And though the majority of students took immeasurable pains to scribe carefully constructed, reference-laden essays, the student who received the highest mark simply wrote "BECAUSE" in large capital letters across the first lined page of his blue book.

"So, with that said," I told him, "my answer to your question is obviously... 'They were out of pancakes.'" (via Pocket Change NYC)

Updated Aug 10, 2007

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Lamborghini Murcielago Rental ($2,250 per day)

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So I was driving down the street with the top down and my hair bonnet securely fastened when I saw my half-brother Xzibit (nee Nouveau) on the sidewalk. He's from my father's first marriage.

We talk frequently when he wants advice about liqueur, sailing, or macrame. "How's the rap singing going?" I called to him. "Richard!" he called. "Looks like
you have INDEED pimped your ride (nee vehicle)!" I forgot to mention - I was driving a Lamborghini Murcielago. (You can tell it's mine because I've colored in the R and the N on the logo with purple crayon.) "It goes slightly faster when the sunroof is up!" I yelled to him. "What?" he said, putting a hand to his ear. That's actually the end of the story with Xzibit because I couldn't figure out how to make
the car slow down. (via Pocket Change NYC)

Updated Aug 10, 2007

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Knipschildt Chocolate ($250 per piece)

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Many's the time I've woken up, sprawled across the broken bed of some five star hotel, only to touch my face, feel something sticky, and pray, "Dear God, please let that be the chocolate." And on those rare instances when I'm lucky enough that it is indeed that delicious treat housekeeping left under the pillow, my only regret is that it's not one of the delightful confections concocted by my friend, Fritz Knipschildt, Maitre Chocolatier, of Knipschildt Chocolatier.

At $250 a piece, or $2000 a pound, his signature Madeleine truffle is worth every penny. In its center is an exquisite fungus that can be found exclusively in the Perigord region in France, and occasionally in Saint-Tropez, on Gerard Depardieu's abandoned thong.

For its many sensual pleasures and the rush of endorphins it releases, chocolate has long been considered a surrogate for sex. Not by me of course, because even after a night of pounding Techno and Absinthe, it's rather difficult to get a bar of candy to choke you as you climax. Nevertheless, Fritz's confections will take your breath away. (via Pocket Change NYC)

Updated Aug 10, 2007

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Bottled Water ($40) - Bling H2O

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2 people recommended this item

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Aside from once using it to get blood out of my cummerbund, I've never had much use for water. It's a liquid, yes, but it won't get you drunk, and of all things, it falls from the sky - for free! I mean what's the point? Vodka is the same color, but at least fish don't have sex in it - well, with the possible exception of Nicky Hilton.

I'm pretty sure she didn't plan it that way. I know I certainly didn't. It's just that when you're being chased down the battered cobblestone streets of the Meatpacking District by two paparazzi on a moped, you can rest assured that the floor of your Navigator is going to get a fresh coat of Reyka Vodka. At least Nicky was a good sport about it, and didn't wake up... again.

Rather sad really. It must be tough being the sibling no one cares about. Much like being Drew Lachey with a camel toe. But if you're going to drown your sorrows after a high profile DUI, you could do worse than Bling H20. Again, water is not really my style, but at forty bucks a bottle, I could use it to wash my Lotus...if I could ever remember where I parked it. (via Pocket Change NYC)

Updated Aug 10, 2007

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Serendipity3 - Worlds Most Expensive Ice Cream

2 people recommended this item

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Yes, it's true - I used to be a small, handsome child. I skipped rope, ate apples and carried my books with one of those leather strap things. Also like many children, I had a lemonade stand. Unlike every other thing I have attempted, this stand was not instantly successful. My beloved valet Bernard speculated that it was because there was not another residence within a five-mile radius. I, on the other hand, felt that it was my menu's lack of Tahitian vanilla-bean ice cream sundaes. Turns out friends, I was right.

Small, handsome Richard: 1. My beloved valet Bernard: 0.

Taking a page from Serendipity 3 owner Stephen Bruce's book: "Serendipity Sundaes: Ice Cream Constructions and Frozen Concoctions," I began selling my very own Tahitian vanilla-bean ice cream sundaes to much acclaim and fanfare. Plus, I sold them on Sundays as a nod to Bernard and his affinity for wordplay. And before you ask, yes, there is still a one-month waiting list for reservations at Small Handsome Richard's Sundae Stand. It's true. Consult your Zagat. (via Pocket Change NYC)

Updated Aug 10, 2007

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Whisky ($3,000 per shot) at the Borgata Hotel

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If there is anything we thinning-hair WASPs can speak to, its whiskey and Jesus and shunning Eva Longoria's tamale blood in private. And much like that pocket-sprite's picante plasma, whiskey too is the sweet, sweet nectar of the Gods. Why, I'm drinking some right now in fact. I'm also Tivo'ing a book to listen to later on my iPod sneakers. (The kids in the audience know what i'm talking about).

One of my seven grandfathers, Rob R. Barren, bootlegged this very cut of Vatted Malt-meat I'm currently and lovingly sipping. Three hundred years ago, upon whispers of prohibition, he set upon a whirling dervish of an adventure, scouring the distilleries of Ireland, Scotland and Northern Scotland for his favorite childhood alcohol, vodka. When he failed to find any vodka and/or the presence of a rudimentary free market, he decided to grab a quick bite to eat. Upon finishing said bite to eat, Pop-pop felt it prudent to rid the land of as much brown-vodka (or whiskey) as possible to bring home as a shower gift to my awaiting mother.

Which (with great linear narration) brings us to right now. And as I dip my plaid-cut crystal tumbler back n' forth to the terrible, terrible music of Philip Glass, I'm reminded not only of how much I dislike minimalist three-tonal medleys, but that I love whiskey - A four-inch ankle boots on Michelle Trachtenberg kind of love. Ah, the warm embrace of whiskey! Tis the will o' the wisp of my heart! It is the best friend a man with hundreds and hundreds of friends could have. (via Pocket Change NYC)

Updated Aug 10, 2007

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Cocktail ($1500) at Duvet Restaurant and Lounge

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2 people recommended this item

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Some time ago, with our legs resting lazily on a mountain of empty Ruinart bottles, Brendan, Duvet's head alchemist and purveyor of social transmutation, became quite excited and said something to me about doing something with something. Either I couldn't hear him above the din of the box social around us or I wasn't paying any attention to him whatsoever. (Let us go with a little from column A and a little from column B). I informed Brendan that a handful of years ago Ruinart actually took it upon itself to create the Best Young French and Best European Sommelier Trophies and that it asked to use my likeness for each trophy's golden bust. When he asked me what in the world I was talking about I simply drank my drink and pointed at some girl's wrap dress.

But before he took leave with a stunning creature in turquoise heels, I toasted his engaging conversational skills and gave him a case of champagne for the road. A few days or years after that fact Brendan phoned to thank me for something I had done or for something that I was planning to do on his behalf. He also continued to say some other things as well. That phone call truly made my afternoon and I will forever remember Brendan's kind and considerate words. At least, I think it was him. (via Pocket Change NYC)

Updated Aug 10, 2007

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Matchmaker Janis Spindel ($500,000)

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When the terrifying and reassuring subject of arranged marriage crops up, I'm always reminded of an entrancingly dusky girl from the Punjab who was with me in Old Nassau and it haunts to this day. She was residing at Cap and Gown with my cousin Tink and went by the name of Frangipani.

Having caressed her samosas and tasted her pungent mulligatawny, a protective tenderness ensued. So it was with horror and blatantly self-absorbed posturing that I greeted the news that she was betrothed to a syphilitic dwarf from Jaipur by family design. Now, even in New York the best of Yentas can turn a Bob Weinstein into a Jude Law, but not so for my comely Hindu friend.

Summoning my manservant Mcbutter, and the best of my great uncle Tocks' ragged connections to the last Viceroy, I was able, by steamer, freight-car and elephant to arrive just as the ceremony ended, and the sweet Frangipani was borne off on a white tiger, toward twisted, diminutive humiliations. Fortunately, Mcbutter and I had three days before frequent flyer expiration and were in a good neighborhood for another kind of compensated companionship and had plenty of penicillin! To this day, I can't be covered in mango chutney or attend a curry-date party without a grimace. But this needn't happen to you! (via Pocket Change NYC)

Updated Aug 10, 2007

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RichardNouveau

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Hailed by Norman Mailer as a "better dressed me," I am this century's prominent urban raconteur. Beloved by royalty...

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