Post by Eamon on Dec 19, 2017 21:41:29 GMT -8
A glass shatters and silence cuts through the noise. A man sits alone at his table, embarrassed and exhausted. He drops to the floor and begins sweeping up the glass with his napkin. The rabble of diner patron starts up again and the silence goes away. Hurried footsteps came toward him. It must be the waitress the man thought. He prepared to apologize, but before he could, someone spoke.
"Holly, could you please take care of this quickly and quietly. My friend and I have business to discuss"
The man looked up from the floor and saw a stranger, not a friend. But in that, he wanted to be his friend. The stranger helped him off the floor and shook his hand. Then came introductions. Eamon. No last name, just call him Eamon. They sat at the table. Eamon first once again.
"Graduate of UNLV. Majored in . References both college and career wise deem you as a great asset. Three years as sa stock broker, but these 6 months have been lackluster for you."
How did Eamon know all of this. The man was both flattered and concerned. As he raised his concerns, Eamon cut him off once again.
"Don't be alarmed. We live in the age of information and when it comes to money, we all want to be confirmed. Finish your sandwich, please"
He was feeling hungry. He picked up his tuna sandwich and continued eating. Eamon continued speaking. Eamon felt he wasn't the same broker he was a few months ago. Tuna melt in his mouth, he watched Eamon pull out a pocket sized notebook and pencil. Eamon opened it up and began writing, periodically asking questions and writing in response. They talked stock trade for hours it seemed. When there talk was done, Eamon placed the notebook on the table and stood up from his seat.
"Now your skills have taken you this far. But you've hit a wall. Now I can help you go over it, under it, or through it. But you have to do it. Follow the instructions in that when you hit a rough patch. Other than that, you have everything you need."
Eamon shook his hand and took his leave. The man at the table grabbed the notebook and left. The check already taken care of by Eamon.
A moment of silence. Darkness. Then the pulsating rings of phones and rabble of men. Men dressed in suits, but the quality varied. All moving frantically, but in control. Shouts of "Sell" echoed through out. There was one lone voice in the rabble that yelled "Buy". He was loud and confident, staring at the small note book in his hand. The men around him shook their heads in disapproval. They would have yelled at him if they weren't occupied. "Buy....fucking buy. You got to trust me on this Clarence. I know what I'm doing". He spoke with confidence, but sweat fell from his brow and his heart pulsed. He hung up the phone and looked to God "Do I know what I'm doing". The shouts fade and the darkness returns.
Pop! An small explosion followed by laughter. Two people we're celebrating in a lavish office with artwork and trophies abound. One was a Senior Woman of Bluford-Saxon, a business firm that specializes in stock and trade. The other was a young stock broker, an employee of Bluford-Saxon who's stock picks had been on point for 45 days straight. As they conversed, they heard a knock on the door. They looked at each other and Senior Woman smiled. She shouted the door was open. In walked Eamon. He carried a bottle of wine in one hand and a folder in the other.
"Excuse my tardiness, I had a late business meeting. I hope everyone loves moscato"
The smiles of his new friends put a devilish grin on Eamon's face.
(Had to edit. Typed this on bullshit ipad)
"Holly, could you please take care of this quickly and quietly. My friend and I have business to discuss"
The man looked up from the floor and saw a stranger, not a friend. But in that, he wanted to be his friend. The stranger helped him off the floor and shook his hand. Then came introductions. Eamon. No last name, just call him Eamon. They sat at the table. Eamon first once again.
"Graduate of UNLV. Majored in . References both college and career wise deem you as a great asset. Three years as sa stock broker, but these 6 months have been lackluster for you."
How did Eamon know all of this. The man was both flattered and concerned. As he raised his concerns, Eamon cut him off once again.
"Don't be alarmed. We live in the age of information and when it comes to money, we all want to be confirmed. Finish your sandwich, please"
He was feeling hungry. He picked up his tuna sandwich and continued eating. Eamon continued speaking. Eamon felt he wasn't the same broker he was a few months ago. Tuna melt in his mouth, he watched Eamon pull out a pocket sized notebook and pencil. Eamon opened it up and began writing, periodically asking questions and writing in response. They talked stock trade for hours it seemed. When there talk was done, Eamon placed the notebook on the table and stood up from his seat.
"Now your skills have taken you this far. But you've hit a wall. Now I can help you go over it, under it, or through it. But you have to do it. Follow the instructions in that when you hit a rough patch. Other than that, you have everything you need."
Eamon shook his hand and took his leave. The man at the table grabbed the notebook and left. The check already taken care of by Eamon.
A moment of silence. Darkness. Then the pulsating rings of phones and rabble of men. Men dressed in suits, but the quality varied. All moving frantically, but in control. Shouts of "Sell" echoed through out. There was one lone voice in the rabble that yelled "Buy". He was loud and confident, staring at the small note book in his hand. The men around him shook their heads in disapproval. They would have yelled at him if they weren't occupied. "Buy....fucking buy. You got to trust me on this Clarence. I know what I'm doing". He spoke with confidence, but sweat fell from his brow and his heart pulsed. He hung up the phone and looked to God "Do I know what I'm doing". The shouts fade and the darkness returns.
Pop! An small explosion followed by laughter. Two people we're celebrating in a lavish office with artwork and trophies abound. One was a Senior Woman of Bluford-Saxon, a business firm that specializes in stock and trade. The other was a young stock broker, an employee of Bluford-Saxon who's stock picks had been on point for 45 days straight. As they conversed, they heard a knock on the door. They looked at each other and Senior Woman smiled. She shouted the door was open. In walked Eamon. He carried a bottle of wine in one hand and a folder in the other.
"Excuse my tardiness, I had a late business meeting. I hope everyone loves moscato"
The smiles of his new friends put a devilish grin on Eamon's face.
(Had to edit. Typed this on bullshit ipad)