I’m going to tell you a story. A story about a boy who was born to be a fuck up. If you haven’t picked up on this yet, this isn’t going to be one for children. The boy's biological parents were both dregs of society. His mother was a sixteen year old drop out who had him by a man whose screw-ups were only outnumbered by his kids. The boy was one of six and was supposed to be next in line for the less than desirable family throne. His slot in life was already determined. He should have been following in good ol’ dad’s footsteps.
At five years old, life was already pitted against him. Born to two asinine parents in an environment filled with fools, there wouldn’t have been anything else for him to be—but life intervened. It had a different plan for him…
Madison, Michigan is where he eventually grew up. A typically insignificant town, home to less than a thousand people. The downtown area had a pathetic excuse of a movie theater, library and a city hall. That’s where he grew up. He was lucky to end up there, some would think. He had been born into an even worse situation; now he had it made. With a real mom and dad and even a dog for a spell.
His new parents, ridiculously in love, volunteered for every charitable effort that took place in the town, even though they barely made ends meet themselves.
The do-gooders of Shelton County.
Their son, the boy, became a straight-A student, member of every little league team you could think of, captain of the junior varsity football team. The kind of boy you’d want your daughter to date. Popular, but nice to the misfits and you didn’t have to worry about him tainting your daughter’s innocence because he was such a gentleman. Almost a character out of a 1950’s TV show. They were the perfect family. What else could their son be other than perfect? He owed them perfection; they saved him from the wreck that could have been his life. He gave himself up for it, he, assimilated until everything came crashing down, the, picture perfect family turned out to be just as warped as everyone else, worse. It jarred him—shocked him, even—as he discovered secret on top of secret, the type of thing that breaks most people. It broke him. I’d say it saved him, brought him back to life. He was free.
He was able to escape. And after that he was never going to look back.
She changed everything.
February 28, 2008
Most people think that they’re free, but they aren’t. They’re slaves—to their jobs, to suffocating families, to misplaced priorities, drowning under the weight of what should be life. I see them. I’ve lived with them. The pathetic thing is that at one point I wanted to be just like them. Well, a part of me at least. Then things changed. I was lost and now I’m found. Many people would wonder how a 23 year old with no formal education, no background in business, and with a pretty shitty attitude—I admit it— ended up with a job making six figures plus to entertain ass-kissers, all done with trust funds from Mommy and Daddy to convince me of why our company should consider saving theirs. My job is atypical but then again I’m not the typical guy.
There is far more to me than meets the eye. It’s my secret weapon, my gift, and my curse. But every curse can be used to your advantage if you can wield it just right.
I had a lot against me when I was born. The cards weren’t stacked in my favor but if my parents never gave me anything else, they passed along a good combination of their genes, which has given me a little bit of an edge up in the world. Regardless of your personality or your IQ, the right looks will get you everywhere—but, without the right mentality, you can only go so far. Lucky for me, a combination of looks and IQ have taken me from under-paid farm hand in a town most people never heard of to one of the greatest cities in the world, with the best food, the most interesting locations, and—my favorite part—the most beautiful women you have ever seen.
I wouldn’t trade my life for the world. Besides, I’ve already done it once.
I didn’t always used to be like this. I used to be like everyone else, suffocating in a shell of a man. A yes-man, until he broke in two. He couldn’t handle the pressure of life—the real side of it, not the sanitized made-for-TV version of life that was created for him. He couldn’t handle that reality is ugly. This worked great because I handle that part just fine. But the beautiful part of life, I’m telling you, is what I love. The life some people never experience. My favorite part of this job is being among the most beautiful women Chicago has to offer. Like an ice-cream shop, it has any flavor you could think of and I’ve tasted so many I should be embarrassed. Distractions that make me put up with the irritating part of my job.