Bloomberg isn’t just a billionaire; he is, by some measures, the eighth-richest man in America. At one point he owned 14 properties of various levels of lavishness, including three Hamptons estates simultaneously. He considers himself a climate-change activist, but he has a personal fleet of private jets and helicopters. Everything about Bloomberg screams “Manhattan elite.” He co-hosted lavish parties with Harvey Weinstein. He says of his girlfriend, “We’ve only been living together for 19 years.”
Bloomberg doesn’t practice what he preaches; the man who crusaded to ban large sodas and trans fats “dumps salt on almost everything, even saltine crackers. He devours burnt bacon and peanut butter sandwiches. He has a weakness for hot dogs, cheeseburgers, and fried chicken, washing them down with a glass of merlot. And his snack of choice? Cheez-Its.” His ego is simply Trumpian, declaring, “I am telling you if there is a God, when I get to heaven, I’m not stopping to be interviewed. I am heading straight in. I have earned my place in heaven. It’s not even close.”
Like many wealthy people, he is capable of casual obliviousness to the financial realities of ordinary Americans. In his autobiography, Bloomberg wrote about the time he was fired from Salomon Brothers — with only a $10 million severance. “I went to a furrier on Third Avenue and ordered a sable jacket for my wife, Sue. . . . I was worried that Sue might be ashamed of my new, less visible status and concerned I couldn’t support the family. A sable jacket seemed to say, ‘No sweat. We can still eat. We’re still players.’” Thankfully, he didn’t starve with only the $10 million payout.
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