Page 21 of Atlas
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you won’t approve.”
“I already know you are in a cheap dump. The ceiling was all spotted and dirty.”
“So? I don’t need to live in luxury.”
I sighed.
“Don’t!” Maximum warned.
“I’m keeping my mouth shut this time. I didn’t call to argue with you.”
“Good. So how are you?”
“Fine.”
“Fine and insomnia don’t go well together.”
“It’s nothing.”
Maximum waited for me to continue. He knew me too well, but I couldn’t tell him about my depraved thoughts.
“I’m going to the Super Bowl this Sunday.”
“I thought you didn’t like American Football.”
“It’s not that I don’t like it. I’ve just never taken the time to understand it.”
“Why would you when rugby is superior?” He winked, and I rewarded him with a smile of agreement.
“So, are you excited?” he asked.
“About what?”
“About going to the Super Bowl.”
“Oh, sure. Except for the masses of people, security, and the noise.”
Maximum chuckled. “The problems of my sensitive brother.”
I groaned.
“Come on. It’s not like you’ll be rubbing shoulders with the hardcore fans. If I’m right, you’ll be in some fancy skybox with great seats, champagne, and delicious food.”
“Charles gave me his tickets.”
“Good for you.”
“You disapprove. I can hear it in your voice.”
Maximum leaned his head back for a moment before looking back at me. “If you could see the poverty here, you’d find it mind-blowing too. Consider the amount of money that goes into a massive sports event like that. It’s easily a hundred million dollars. Imagine what good you could do with that money in places like this. People are dying from disease and poverty around the world, so yes, I think the money could be used in a better way.”
“You don’t see the whole picture. Children are fed because of the Super Bowl. Those hundred million dollars that you talk about provide jobs that help families pay their bills. The amount of people employed to pull something like that off is substantial.”
Maximum shrugged and didn’t reply.
