Читать книгу The Kingfish Way - Rob Wood - Страница 4

“You can avoid reality, but you

cannot avoid the consequences

of avoiding reality.”

~ Ayn Rand

It was seven o’clock before Phil decided to call it a day. He was hungry and tired, and considered going straight home, but there was nothing to eat; he hadn’t been to the grocery store in over a month. He knew he would find his friends a few blocks away at Montana’s Bar and Grille…maybe a few beers would cheer him up.

“Phil! Hey Phil!” yelled Steve from across the room when Phil walked in. “Over here!” Phil waved and worked his way across the bar to join his coworkers. “Any updates on Kent?” inquired Steve as Phil pulled up a chair.

“Every day a pain in the ass!” said Phil as he sat down, “And Kent is just one of the reasons!” Everyone laughed.

“Wolfhounds for everyone!” Steve yelled across the room at the bartender, gesturing to the men at the table. Wolfhound was the beverage of choice with Phil’s drinking buddies. It was a “man’s beer”. Phil hated Wolfhound.

“Hey, Phil,” interjected a man to his left, “What do you think about the overseas economic numbers that came out this week?” Robert was the self-appointed intellectual of the group. He was often trying to impress everyone with his knowledge. They all knew his game: he would spend his evenings researching the Internet, gathering obscure facts, and then he would casually bring them up the next day. His friends were used to it. They assumed he was compensating for something, since he also drove a Porsche.

“I got this one,” said Steve, “Robert, I see a double-bottom-flip-around coming from the Asian market. As a matter of fact, I’m thinking about moving my $167.00 into gold, at least until the options market settles down.”

Everyone laughed at Steve, but Robert tried to continue the conversation. “Wait a minute, guys, I’m serious! All the numbers look bad. Interest rates are dropping all around the world.”

“Good,” said Doug, “Maybe I can refinance my place and borrow some more money!”

Robert shrugged and changed the subject. “OK, Phil, what’s going on at WAD? I heard the numbers were down.” Phil rolled his eyes. Robert ignored him and continued. “I mean you are the accountant. Do you see our numbers dropping?”

“Give it a break!” said Phil. “The numbers are down because they always drop this time of year! I wouldn’t worry about it! Now let’s drink!” But secretly Phil wondered, and he grew quiet as he considered what Kent had put him through that day. He wasn’t worried about his job, he was vested with the company, but he knew everyone wasn’t so lucky. He didn’t want to concern his friends, but the numbers were not adding up.

The evening wore on, and one by one, Phil’s coworkers headed home. Phil had switched to water, and found himself drifting back into despair as he sobered up. Finally, he found himself alone, and could think of no reason to put off going home. Sighing, he picked up his keys and headed out the door.

Phil’s shoulders sagged as he walked into the house. Kicking the kitchen door shut behind him, he glanced around for a good place to put his keys, shrugged, and tossed them absentmindedly onto the kitchen table. He sighed as he settled into his easy chair with a bag of chips, reaching for the remote. Flipping through the channels aimlessly, he lost himself in the mindless chatter of the television, and finally fell asleep, the bag of chips resting on his chest.