Bow before me and tremble at my might, for I am He who shaves Jeff Bezos’s head.
I am privy to the secrets of the king, like how many steps he’s gotten and what his wife might name the new dog.
Dost thou seek audience with His Excellency The Bezos? Dost thou aspire to sit his council?
If it is access you pursue, I advise you abandon thy quarry.
I am the blade of the king. It is my sworn duty to keep his privilege, protect his confidences, and Schick Quattro the fibers that besmirch his glossy mantle. I attend him as a company of one.
If, however, there are bits of his genius— intimate particulars fallen from his lips to my waiting ears — from which you desire a nibble, I can be of service. For a price.
That price is anything that can help me get to Tampa for this year’s SCALP Expo, the annual convention/trade show/bro-down for barbers, head artists, and bald-thusiasts.
Hark, m’lord, and hear for yourself this morsel of Bezian scuttlebutt. Lean close, for it is blather not babbled twice:
Despite retaining their title-winning core, Mr. Bezos does not think the Minnesota Lynx can win their third WNBA championship this year.
He spake this prophecy whilst I held a freshly whetted Mach 3 Turbo firm to his occipital lobe.
But for my practiced grip, the man would be butterflied.
In a world governed by change and the ever-turning tides of technology and commerce, few things are constant. We hold tight to that which is certain — a mother’s love, an eastern sunrise, a Sylvia Fowles post-up.
Think of the ramifications. Instead of three championships, the team will have two. Dozens of Lynx fans will save $40 on a t-shirt that — wow — will never be printed. Somewhere, a Wikipedia page will list a different team as the winner. The earth will tremble and the skies will roar. This is the decree of the king.
So what do you say? That’s definitely worth a five spot. Tampa isn’t gonna fly to itself, amirite?
No? C’mon. That’s juice! Okay, wait wait wait. I’ve got something — but to divulge it places my Prime membership in grave jeopardy.
Lord Bezos is concerned that his oldest, Erica, hasn’t put the necessary work into her lifts and tumbles to make varsity cheer this coming fall.
There are few relationships that are truly sacred: doctor-patient, attorney-client, tech magnate-dome sculptor. I understand that I have chosen a path of immense responsibility. But this? This I never expected.
Was he merely confiding in his most trusted, or is calamity nigh? Will he resign his position at the company and focus full-time on his daughter’s extracurriculars? Should you dump your stock immediately? It’s not for me to say, and I totally would have asked him more, but then he took an encrypted holographic communication from President Xi and I pretty much just zoned out and started thinking about beard oil. Pretty crazy, huh?
Oh, you’re gonna Venmo me? For Tampa? Sweet. I’d prefer to keep this off the books as well. Username: @MrCreamNCut.
Nope, wrong button. That’s Lyft. You pushed Lyft. That would be for if you were trying to get very far away from this conversation right now. Haha! That would be hilar — oooh, I get it you’re leaving.
Okay, you’ve made your point. You want the hottest goss’ I’ve got. Fine. Deep breaths. Here goes:
Mr. Bezos has never asked me to call him Jeff and I think it’s unfair.
It sucks. I told him to call me Riley or “Cutman” but he just says, “Hey, buddy.”
Listen, it’s good business. As his office is definitely under audio surveillance by trust-busting feds, my anonymity protects me — his consigliere — from implication, subpeona, or indictment in the event of a raid or asset forfeiture. And that’s because he needs me — his regent — to take over once he’s been jettisoned to space prison.
It’s quite the gesture.
But, at the same time, he and his assistant Janet call each other “J-Bug” all the time and he took the whole office to the aquarium except me, and I don’t really know what I’m doing wrong. Maybe it’s because he knows I’m going to Tampa for SCALP Expo and Tampa is basically a whole aquarium on its own, but what’s an underwater wonderland without a best friend with whom to share it?
Which brings me to my final piece of unauthorized, highly valuable personal information pertaining to Amazon CEO Jeff Bezos.
His favorite animal is dolphins.
He told me he wants to swim up next to dolphins and have se — is that your ride? Terrance in the black Honda Pilot?
Hang on a sec! I said I witnessed Jeff Bezos, founder and CEO of Amazon, divulge his plan to learn scuba so he can make lo — Don’t get in that car!
TAMPAAAA!!!
