Hey, mister... can I have a ride?

One of my co-workers interviewed a German steel magnate at his Gates Mills home (for example) today. He came back talking about how impressive it was -- the driveway til forever, the giant house, all the trees. The carved wooden table. The fact that everything in the house looked like it was an antique. The organ that the house had been built around, that played through the vents.

And this magnate, after the interview, invited my co-worker to lunch with him at the country club. But my co-worker declined, deciding he had to get back to the office instead.

Just one problem.

The magnate had just flown in from Germany. His wife had the corvette. Could he get a ride to the country club anyway?

I don't remember what kind of car my co-worker said he had, but it was a 1990 something with CDs all over the seat. And that's how the magnate got to the country club.

But no one knows how he got home...