Steve Jobs, Mark Zuckerberg and Serpico
Tuesday night 6PM, a stylish ballroom in a $500 a night hotel in
Rancho Palos Verdes, California. Twenty minutes below LAX, but located
on a bluff that would give you the impression you were in Maui–or on
the Cliffs of Moore.
One of those places that makes New Yorkers consider moving moving to
California and hanging it up, but that once you’re here you’ll never
visit again.
From the row behind me a familiar voice: “Hey, how’s it going.”
“Oh, hey… I’m Jason nice to see you again.”
“I know who you are.”
“Do you play poker?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Well, do you have money? We have a game later and I could teach you.”
He flashes a big smile.
Of the 1,200 seats in the auditorium, Mark Zuckberg sits directly behind mine.
What an awkward coincidence.
