They were on the prowl all week. The lobbyists, job seekers, influence peddlers, donors and all manner of ultrarich hangers-on at the Democratic National Convention.
To roam the luxury hotels of Chicago on any given morning or afternoon was to get a peek into the maneuvering of the well-to-do. There was casual talk of ambassadorships alongside the fried pizza bites and afternoon rosé.
At the Ritz-Carlton, there was Jeffrey Katzenberg, the campaign’s co-chair and campaign finance impresario, enjoying lunch. At the Four Seasons, there was Terry McAuliffe, the famous backslapping Virginia politician, working the hotel bar and reminiscing about conventions of yore.
Others spotted making the rounds were Blair W. Effron, a well-connected financier; John W. Rogers Jr., a top donor and the founder of the country’s largest minority-run mutual fund firm; and Ken Chenault, the former American Express chief executive who landed a speaking slot earlier in the week. Among the targets of their attention: Minyon Moore, one of Vice President Kamala Harris’s key advisers, who was seen winding her way through the crowded lobby.
“Hotel lobbies are prime territory,” said Steve Elmendorf, a veteran Democratic lobbyist who compared the schmoozing to a college reunion. “People are unobstructed. You see the governor or the senator walk through the lobby, you can go talk to them.”
It has long been this way on the sidelines of political conventions, where powerful relationships are born and nurtured far from K Street lobbying offices or boardrooms. But there are still 74 days left — at least — until anyone will know whether it is important to get in good with the people wielding authority in a President Harris administration. It may yet be another four years of wooing President Trump and his associates.
Veterans of these events know that certain conversations can be premature.
“I’d throw someone out a window if they asked about an ambassadorship,” Mr. McAuliffe told a reporter as he greeted well-wishers in the Four Seasons lobby with a “good to see you, buddy.” The election, he stressed, was not over.
But still, a stroll through the crowded lobbies shows that many people in politics believe it is never too early to start strategizing.
“I was at a gathering at the Four Seasons Boston on Election Day 2004, and people were talking about what jobs they’d have in the Kerry administration,” said Matt Bennett, a top executive at Third Way, a Democratic think tank in Washington. “Premature chicken counting always happens and is, in my superstitious view, a bad idea.”
The very biggest fund-raisers for the Harris Victory Fund were at the Ritz ($689 a room), while the only slightly big fund-raisers took place at the Four Seasons ($595 a room) three blocks away. That pecking order is obvious to everyone, so much so that some wealthy givers or their aides sheepishly admitted that they had been booked at the No. 2 hotel.
Throughout the week, donors could be spotted in the hotel lobbies consulting their advisers, lobbyists or favored groups to play high-end concierge and to dispense the all-important convention credentials and V.I.P. tickets to the best parties.
They also spent time complaining about the vans that got stuck for hours on the way to the United Center, the lack of food in the sponsored suites or the inability to get friends and family into a Thursday night huddle at the Queenie’s club in the United Center, where Ms. Harris and her husband, Doug Emhoff, offered about 100 donors a champagne toast right after Ms. Harris’s acceptance speech.
Business celebrities at the convention included Laurene Powell Jobs, the philanthropist and widow of the Apple co-founder; Alex Soros, the chair of the Open Society Foundations; and Hollywood players like the music executive Scooter Braun and the filmmaker J.J. Abrams. But Democrats say that plenty of the very top donors did not show, such as Reid Hoffman, the co-founder of LinkedIn; Michael R. Bloomberg, the billionaire and former New York City mayor; or Tom Steyer, the billionaire environmentalist from San Francisco.
The Republican National Convention, by contrast, attracted more megadonors like Dick Uihlein, Miriam Adelson and Todd Ricketts — all conservative billionaires.
To some Democrats in the business community, the Harris ticket represents something of a blank slate, an opportunity to try to bend policymaking in their favor.
But there is also time to let off steam, whether it was batting practice at Wrigley Field or any of the concerts featuring John Legend, the Killers or T-Pain.
“A convention is basically a large trade show for people who are involved in politics and campaigns and government to catch up every four years,” Mr. Elmendorf said. “They connect and see friends and see people who might be useful to them in the future, work on their campaigns, give them some money.”
But, he added: “It’s very social. It’s not all business.”
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