Читать книгу Not By Chance By Choice - Desmond Richardson - Страница 6

Checkmate

My senior year was coming up, and everything in my life was going according to plan. I had dreams of going pro in basketball, but my high school canceled out sports on me all my years of high school. I was upset at first, but I picked up a second job to pass the time. I started making seven to eight hundred dollars every two weeks. Tom and I would shoot dice to make money too. Shooting dice was a second language to me.

With graduation coming up, I would check my GPA and see I had a 1.9. My grades were no bother to me. I knew I had done enough work in high school to just get by. I did not plan on going to college because it was too much work. I had two jobs, so I figured I’d save a little extra money over the next four years and skip out on college. I would end up getting a one-bedroom apartment after I graduated. I was young, just out of school, and I already lived on my own.

I was impressed with the things I had accomplished in my life. I would ponder on my past and how poor we were. I never wanted to go back to having nothing. I would choose to be in the cooperate world. My mother and father both hustled to make ends meet, and ends would never meet. Failure on top of failure for their businesses. I learned one thing from my parents: get a stable nine-to-five job. I also learned to save more than I could spend.

I was at work, at the club, the next day, and while I was picking up trash in the parking lot, a stranger walked up to me and asked if I wanted a job. He was the general manger at NAPA. He told me I was a diligent worker. Now I would have three jobs, making more money than I could have ever imagined. On average, I made $1,500 every two weeks. I was thankful. There was only one problem. On average, I worked eighty-six hours a week. But it was prime time for money, so I saved for a few months to plan for my future. Not only did I work around the clock to kill my hours in a day, I also worked at a fast-food restaurant. That meant all my food was provided for. I had no wants or needs, so I invested in enjoying myself. I bought a truck and painted it lime green and royal blue. Tom and I would hit the streets. Everyone knew I was making money at this point. Then I went and bought another car. I needed to have a casual car I could ride around in.

I had two cars—one nice car and one causal car—but I needed more. This next project would get me the ladies. I bought a Mustang and put a paint job on it, but this was no regular paint. This paint was called candy paint. It would make my car sparkle, so to speak. Tom and I would ride back-to-back in my cars and pick up women day to day.