I had this friend in elementary school by the name of Junior. We kind of lost touch over the years. He was a decent dude back then. We hung out because we lived next door to each other in elementary school, but there was always something weird about him and his family.
His Dad, Biff, always had some kind of sports car and liked to drive fast. He had a mustache and ordered European cigarettes through the mail. Biff worked for his father, Junior’s grandfather. He was kind of given an important job. I heard my parents talking about them and saying that. They never told me directly. Biff would have to fly out of town every week during the summer, but not during football season. His mom was a stay at home mom, and they only had the one son. She was hot in a sleazy way. She had fake tits.
These were the old school fake tits. One of them started leaking and she got pretty sick. Biff’s dad knew a good attorney and got her some new tits right away plus a nice little settlement. After the settlement they both bought new cars and added a raised hot tub above their pool plus a ridiculous fountain. I saw her topless all the time in their backyard. My bedroom window looked right down on their pool. Years later she hinted at the fact that she knew I could see her naked in the backyard, but that she kind of liked it. She drank a lot of wine. A lot. She liked to drink wine during the day.
In elementary school, Biff was the football coach of our team. Junior, of course, was the quarterback. I was the fullback. The whole team wondered why Junior was the quarterback. There were fifteen dudes with better arms and probably half the team could run the ball better, but Biff insisted that Junior play quarterback. The weird thing is that when the rest of the team had to run, Junior would be over on the side throwing passes. He would get to miss half of the running drills. Biff said that Junior needed to work on his throwing and that it was more important than running.
Junior was not quite a bright dude. By the time we got to junior high, I didn’t really hang out with him anymore. You know, when you get older, your world expands beyond the dude that lives next door. The first year of junior high football, when Biff wasn’t there to coddle Junior, Junior quit the team during two-a-days.
Junior’s mom, who will be referred to as Tits for the remainder of this story, got him tutors for any subject he didn’t get an A, which was most of them. Tits explained that Junior no longer had time for sports, because he needed to focus on his education. We’re talking junior high public school here, and an above average school, but Biff and Tits really wanted their son to be something special when he took over the family business.
By the time we got to high school, Biff and Tits pulled Junior out of public school because he was “not challenged”. They put him in a fancy private school, one that didn’t release class rankings. I think the top 10% rule had something to do with this. They made Junior do all sorts of community service, and he still had tutors over at the house all the time. While I was mowing lawns in the neighborhood after football practice, Junior was serving food to the homeless, helping clean up trash around the lake, joining all sorts of organizations and going to meetings, and getting tutored in whatever subject was giving him problems.
Well, even though I lived next door to him, I rarely talked to Junior in high school. I just didn’t see him. Tits and Biff were dragging him all over the place. I was playing sports, mowing lawns, and doing well in school. Then, we went off to college.
Junior went to Texas University. His parents were big fans. They bought him a nice condo near campus, but he ended up living in the fraternity house most of the time. The condo was there for him for his tutoring session or if one of his buddies needed a place to take a girl. Junior graduated and Biff gave him a middle management position right off the bat. Apparently, Junior did okay and was promoted to upper management in record fashion. He had a title with the word “Director” in it. I know this because he left his card in my parent’s mailbox for some reason.
Junior got married to a girl from Houston that was an elementary education major. They had a couple of kids and bought a nice house in Frisco with a pool and a maid and some nice cars just like Biff and Tits drove. After the second kid his wife got some new tits at Junior’s request, and then she split on him. She took the kids and shacked up with another dude and took Junior for about half of his money.
It really didn’t impact Junior too much. Biff retired and handed Junior the keys. Mind you, I hadn’t seen Junior in fifteen years at this point, but Tits and Biff kept my parents updated on his accomplishments and they passed the info on to me, even though I told them I wasn’t interested. Of course, they passed my info onto Biff and Tits as well.
My story was simple. I went to the second largest university in the state. I got an accounting degree. I went to work for a big firm for a few years, then moved onto a small practice where the CPA was about to retire. I took over that practice and grew it and am doing quite well. I work a shitload for about two and a half months out of the year. The rest of the time I’m a nine to four dude with a week or two off three quarters out of the four. At the end of each quarter I work a lot for a week or two, but I have a pretty good life. I’ll be able to retire early. My wife and three kids seem pretty happy.
So, I ran into Junior the other day. This would have been about six months after he took over the business from his father. The first thing Junior said to me, and I hadn’t seen him in fifteen years, was this: “Hey, we’ve been working on this deal for years, but we just signed it this week. It’s going to bring me $15 million a year for the next fifteen years. Dude, I’m so pumped.”
All these thoughts were going through my mind. Sure, this dude was a total douchebag from the beginning. Sure, he never really did anything by himself his whole life, and, sure, he got a gift of a bunch of money he was not capable of earning on his own.
All I said was, “Congratulations, Junior. You earned it.”