With Infinite Money I Can Do Everything

The drive through Makati towards Bonifacio Global City (BGC) was, Jun-Jun had to admit, remarkably unremarkable compared to yesterday's odyssey. Mateo, his driver for the day, navigated the Sunday morning traffic with quiet competence, the Mercedes S-Class gliding smoothly through the wide avenues. Sunlight streamed through the tinted windows, illuminating the plush leather interior. Outside, joggers dotted the sidewalks, families strolled towards parks, and the gleaming towers of the financial district reflected the clear sky. It was peaceful. Almost... boring.

Jun-Jun found himself idly wondering if he could pay the traffic lights to stay green just for them, or perhaps hire street performers to stage a spontaneous musical number alongside the car at intersections. He suppressed the urge. Normal, he reminded himself. For Migs.

"Mateo," Jun-Jun said conversationally, breaking the comfortable silence. "Everything alright back there?"

Mateo met his eyes briefly in the rearview mirror. "Yes, Sir Jun-Jun. Very smooth driving today." There was perhaps a hint of relief in his voice, suggesting he might have heard whispers from other household staff about his employer's usual transportation adventures.

"Good, good," Jun-Jun nodded. "Say, Mateo, have you ever considered tricking out this car? Maybe some hydraulics? A smoke screen? Ejector seat?"

Mateo coughed lightly. "The vehicle meets the company's standard specifications, sir."

"Right, right. Standards," Jun-Jun sighed. "Such limitations." He spent the rest of the short journey contemplating how much it would cost to gold-plate the entire Mercedes, deciding it might be a fun surprise for Mateo later.

They pulled up smoothly in front of "The Gilded Spoon," a chic, modern restaurant spilling out onto a sun-dappled corner in the heart of BGC. Planters overflowed with vibrant flowers, stylishly dressed patrons filled the indoor tables visible through the large windows, and the general ambiance was one of expensive, relaxed Sunday brunch. A valet in a crisp uniform hurried over.

Jun-Jun stepped out of the car, feeling disappointingly conventional. He handed the valet a P5,000 bill. "Take good care of her," he said. "And get yourself a nice coffee." The valet blinked at the excessive tip but recovered quickly with a professional smile and a "Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!"

As Jun-Jun approached the restaurant entrance, the manager, a suave man in a well-tailored suit whose name tag read 'Antoine', practically materialized before him, beaming.

"Mr... uh... 'Santos'?" Antoine asked, lowering his voice slightly with a knowing glance. "Welcome to The Gilded Spoon! We have everything prepared precisely as you requested. Your table on the patio awaits."

"Excellent, Antoine! Lead the way!" Jun-Jun announced cheerfully, striding past the slightly bewildered hostess.

Antoine escorted him through the buzzing interior of the restaurant towards the large outdoor patio. As they stepped outside, the reason for Antoine's effusiveness became clear. The entire patio, a space easily capable of seating fifty or sixty people, prime real estate on a sunny Sunday morning, was completely empty. Except for one solitary table, perfectly set for two, right in the center. Several large silver buckets filled with ice and multiple bottles of high-end champagne stood sentinel nearby.

And sitting at that solitary table, looking profoundly uncomfortable under the curious gaze of diners peering out from inside, was Migs. He was dressed casually but nicely, though his shoulders were hunched, and he nursed a glass of water as if it were his only shield against the encroaching absurdity.

"Migs!" Jun-Jun greeted enthusiastically, taking the offered seat. "You made it! No vehicular adventures on your end, I hope?"

Migs looked up, managing a weak smile. He scanned the vast emptiness of the patio surrounding them. "No adventures, Jun-Jun. Just a nice, normal Grab ride." He gestured vaguely at the empty tables. "And... this. What is this?"

"Brunch!" Jun-Jun declared. "You wanted normal, I got us normal! Plus, a little privacy."

"Privacy? Jun-Jun, this isn't private, it's conspicuous! Everyone inside is staring at us! They probably think we're eccentric billionaires who demanded the entire patio!"

Jun-Jun beamed. "Well..."

"Don't answer that," Migs sighed. "Just... okay. We're here. No police sirens. No party buses. I'll take it."

Antoine glided over, followed by a waiter holding one of the chilled champagne bottles. "Mr. 'Santos', may we offer you some Cristal Brut to begin?" Antoine inquired smoothly.

"Excellent choice, Antoine!" Jun-Jun approved. "Pour away! Migs?"

"It's 11 AM, Jun-Jun," Migs protested weakly, though he didn't stop the waiter from filling a flute for him. He looked like he needed it.

"Perfect time for bubbles!" Jun-Jun declared, raising his glass. "To a successful halo-halo mission yesterday, and a... relatively normal brunch today!"

They clinked glasses. The champagne was crisp, cold, and ridiculously expensive. Migs took a long sip.

"So," Jun-Jun began, leaning back expansively, "what did you think of the taxi convoy? Efficient, right? Minimal hassle."

"Minimal hassle that involved hiring ten taxis for a trip one could easily handle," Migs pointed out, swirling his champagne. "How much did that even cost?"

"Irrelevant!" Jun-Jun waved the question away. "Think of it as stimulating the local economy. Those drivers were very happy. Happy drivers mean safer roads! It's practically a public service."

Migs decided not to argue the twisted logic. "And the car wash? You really bought it?"

"Yup! Finalized this morning," Jun-Jun confirmed. "Seemed practical. I was thinking of installing a drive-through halo-halo bar there. What do you think?"

"I think," Migs said carefully, "that you should perhaps focus on one absurd business venture at a time. Let poor Leo settle into his manager role before you ask him to start shaving ice."

"Good point. Patience," Jun-Jun nodded thoughtfully, as if contemplating a foreign concept.

Antoine reappeared with menus bound in leather. "Are you ready to order, gentlemen? Or shall I inform the chef to begin preparing the... special dessert?" He gave Jun-Jun another knowing look.

"Let's see the menu first," Jun-Jun said, taking one. "But definitely alert the chef! Tell him the Alpine ice is acceptable, but if he can get the Norwegian glacier ice expedited via private jet, the budget will cover it."

Antoine didn't even blink this time. "Right away, sir." He retreated once more.

Migs looked at the menu, then at Jun-Jun. "Norwegian glacier ice? Artisanal halo-halo? Jun-Jun, what exactly did you arrange for this 'normal' brunch?"

Jun-Jun just grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Just ensuring the highest quality ingredients, Migs. After yesterday, you deserve the best." He scanned the menu. "Now, should we start with the truffle eggs benedict or the lobster omelet? Or maybe just buy the restaurant's entire egg supply and see what Chef can whip up?"

Migs sighed, took another large gulp of champagne, and picked up his menu. Normal was clearly a relative term in Jun-Jun's universe. At least the patio was pleasant, and for the moment, nothing seemed to be exploding or requiring a police escort. It was a start.