That’s when it hit me. An $84,000 glass bowl had just smashed into my head. Fine china was being thrown across the Hilldale Italian restaurant. Complete chaos had broken out and no one could tell me why, even though it was clear they all knew something I didn’t.
Then I heard it; a shriek so high pitched, so shrill that the glass vase at my table had actually shattered.1 The restaurant went silent. The chef who was about to throw a freshly butchered pig at the Governor’s step-son’s girlfriend froze. The pig went hurling at the ground. All was quiet. You could hear people breathing and the bustle in the back kitchen. Then came a snicker I shouldn’t have ignored.