I never believed in such old-fashioned adages as "there is no such thing as good or bad luck, only people bring on themselves" before this big trick.Now, I believe it. Now, I believe all aphorisms.I believe that "pride makes people fail", that "like father, like son", that "misfortunes never come singly", that "everything that shines is not always gold", and that "paper cannot contain fire".Man, I'll believe anything you can tell me. I would have liked to say that it was all due to my generosity, but that's not the case.More folly than generosity...a cry for help...maybe more like a raised middle finger.Whatever it is, in short, my fate is not good, I still have a little luck, hoping to escape punishment, but I also more or less expect to be fired.I gotta say, looking back now at how this drama started in the first place, I have to marvel at what a complete fool I was!I don't intend to deny that I did it myself, but I really didn't expect this outcome-after all, who would have expected this shit?

I was just posing as the VP of Corporate Events and making a few calls to the top caterer that caters to every Wyatt Telecom party.I asked them to throw another high-spirited orgy on the scale of the party they had for the Sales of the Year Awards last week (of course, I had no idea how extravagant that would be).I gave them the payment pin and allowed them to transfer funds beforehand.The whole thing is as simple as that. The boss of "Huashi Feast" told me that he had never organized a party on any company's pier. He said that it was a great "challenge" in terms of venue layout.However, I'm sure he would never turn down a huge check from Wyatt Telecom.

Somehow, I doubt even China Food Feast has ever hosted a retirement party for a deputy foreman. I think that's what really drives Nicholas Wyatt crazy.Pay Jones - a longshoreman - for a retirement party, for Christ's sake!This is simply against the laws of nature!Wyatt might understand if I had used that money to put down a deposit on a Ferrari 360 convertible - he might see my greed as something in common between us, like drinking and liking 'twats' (that's what he always calls women) Same. If I knew this would happen, would I still do it?Damn it, never! However, I still have to say, it was really enjoyable!Because I know that the money that paid for Jones' party came from the "vacation" funds of the CEO and his senior vice presidents.The money was used to provide them with various benefits, including enjoying the pleasant scenery on the island of Guanahani in St. Barthelemy.

And I'd love to see the dockers finally get a taste of what life is like at the top.For most of these workers and their wives, a prawn dinner at Red Lobster or a suckling pork chop at Outback Steakhouse is a matter of bragging rights.Some of the outlandish delicacies at the party, such as Ocietra caviar and veal tenderloin de Provence, they didn't even know what they were, but that didn't stop them from feasting on sliced ​​beef, lamb chops, and Italian veal. Enjoy grilled lobster with ravioli.Those ice sculptures were a hit at the party.Dom Pérignon depletes quickly, but still not as good as Budweiser (I'm not wrong about these wines, before, whenever I was hanging out on the pier on a Friday afternoon, there would always be someone, usually Jones or Foreman Jimmy Connolly, celebrating the end of another week with a case of cold drinks).

Jones looked weather-beaten and always looked humble, but people tended to like him immediately.Tonight, he has been radiant.His wife, Esther, of forty-two, seemed aloof at first, but turned out to be a fantastic dancer.I had a very good Jamaican reggae group for a show and everyone danced, including people you never expected to dance! This of course happened in the aftermath of the Great Tech Crash.All the companies are laying off workers right now, the "frugality policies" are in place - meaning you have to pay for even a cup of coffee, no free cokes in the lounge, etc. - stuff like that.Jones got fired one Friday, put him in human resources to fill out forms for a few hours, and sent him home to spend the rest of his life.There was no farewell party and everything was thrown away by Thrift.Meanwhile, Wyatt Telecom's HR executives are planning to fly to St. Barts on a luxurious Learjet jet, have sex with their wives or girlfriends in their private vacation villas, and smack the fat around their waists. Coconut oil smeared and a sanctimonious discussion of the company's frugal policy over a sumptuous breakfast buffet of papaya and bee tongue.Jones and his men didn't ask who would pay for the party, but I secretly felt a kind of inexplicable joy at my "chivalrous act".

Until about 1:30 in the morning, the music of electric guitars and the screams of several drunken young people aroused the curiosity of a security guard.This is a new guy (security pay is pitiful these days and turnover is high), he doesn't know us, and he's not going to turn a blind eye to it. This kid was about thirty years old, short and fat, with a red face all over his face.With a walkie-talkie in his hand—really looking like he was holding a Glock—he yelled, "What the hell?" At that moment, I knew that I was done.