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What’s something that made you believe that a friend was rich when staying at their house when you were younger?

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The first time I really realized somebody was R.I.C.H. was when I was 49. I was invited to a weekend party in McLean, VA. It was way over the top. Their patio had life-sized Greek statues. Copies, I hope. The wine cellar was three times the size of my apartment. The hostess had been face-lifted so many times she looked perpetually astonished.

There were only about three of us regular people and every now and again our eyes would meet and we too would look over-face lifted.

But in the final reckoning they were at least as unhappy as regular people and a few drinks brought that out.

The husband of the house was a government contractor.