Back in 2002, I was the VP of Sales for a tech startup in Ft. Lauderdale.
One local banking CEO (and target prospect) strongly encouraged me to join the Tower Club because that’s where I would meet the local “power players”.
I checked it out. The club was located on an upper floor of a downtown skyscraper. It had a restaurant, sister privileges at clubs in Miami and West Palm beach and a rentable meeting room for giving presentations.
The club was full of old polished hardwood and comfortable leather furniture. Men were required to wear jackets. Women had some dress code I’m sure. Only members and their guests were allowed to dine in the restaurant.
Staff was solicitous, extremely attentive and amazingly helpful. This was a welcome surprise as I’d become used to South Florida’s typical “who cares if you’re here” service attitude.
It was actually fairly reasonably priced too – I think it was $100 per month plus a minimum monthly amount that had to spent on dining.
So I joined thinkingI could use it to make business connections and to do group events.
Over the next year my company gave multiple events at the club. Although these ended up driving no new business, we did connect with nearly 100 new prospects and at the time thought they were worthwhile.
But my most cherished memories of the Tower Club were my Saturday night dinner dates with my wife.
We’d valet park in the underground lot beneath the building. When we exited the elevator into the restaurant, a staff member would greet us by name, take our coats, welcome us and offer us cocktails before dinner. They knew our preferred drinks, brands and preferences.
When we were ready, we’d be ushered to a private dining table and introduced to our waiter who would present the specials, menus etc.
We’d get pleasantly buzzed on strong drinks and red wine. We’d linger over delicious appetizers, scrumptious entrees and decadent desserts.
I still recall their exquisite lobster bisque, the crunchy sea-bass, the filet mignon and the prime rib my wife adored. After dinner desserts and drinks were mouth-wateringly delicious. Yum. Yum. Yum.
Throughout dinner we’d share our food, hold hands, gaze longingly into each other’s eyes, laugh and thoroughly enjoy our evening out.
It was a bit expensive to dine there – maybe 25% more than other restaurants. But the service was so good that it was worth every penny.
Every time we went there, we were made to feel as if we were special.
And that’s what I was thinking about recently when I read about Ivanka Trump and Jared Kushner’s luxury rental homes in DC and Miami that reportedly cost $18K and $40K per month to rent.
I thought that I have no comprehension of what it would be like to be truly wealthy. To never worry about running out of money, paying the bills, healthcare costs or hacking something to make do.
But I do know what it feels like to be treated as if I was special.
The Tower Club gave me a glimpse (an illusion?) of what it might be like to be a member of the upper class – treated special because of money.
My wife gave me 29 years of knowing what it feels like to be treated special because of love.
I am grateful I have some cherished memories of bringing both of these together for some brief, but ultimately wonderful evenings so many years ago.
In researching this column, I saw that the Tower Club still exists in Ft Lauderdale and that they have a “sister-club” here in downtown Raleigh.
Would I join the Raleigh Club today? Maybe I would, if I had business connections in town, a wife to share fine meals with, a career or even a normal diet.
But my life is much different today and the memories, however cherished, are past as is the life I lived then.