after finding out how much of their pay is actually going to government and government waste.
A self-motivator, after two months of intense physical therapy, she was well enough to return to her trade. But the long hours of standing and heavy lifting required of a gourmet chef proved too much for her surgically repaired knee. On top of that, she found herself popping pain pill after pain pill, 800 mg at that. It wasn’t long before she was forced to rethink her future in the food business. Fortunately, she was already enrolled in the MBA program at the university, which made the prospect of making a career change at this point in her life appear less daunting. Inside of a year she received her MBA degree, and thanks to her connections in the restaurant business, she signed on with her present employer in Tampa. Though the job centered on the restaurant business, she was playing a different role this time and in a different capacity.
Yvette loved the restaurant business, the people, the food, the challenges, and, of course, the money – forty-five grand a year – her starting salary. The business chain she kept the books for revolved around six five-star restaurants. Her office was housed at the spacious Tampa Bay location. There was a restaurant in the Orlando area, one in St Augustine, Florida, one in the Daytona Beach, Florida area and two in the Ft Lauderdale/Miami area. Yvette managed the books for the Tampa, Daytona Beach and the Orlando restaurants via computer. Currently under construction in the St Cloud/Kissimmee tourist area was a 150 seat capacity split-level restaurant. Yvette was slated to manage the books there, too. In addition, the Florida based company had plans of opening four more restaurants over the next two years. Two in North Florida and two more in the South Florida/Key West area. At that point they would hire an additional accountant.
Great plans, no doubt, she thought when the expansion plans were announced. Growth meant more patrons, which meant more jobs and more profits, which meant a bigger pay raise for her. But she had plans of her own. Quietly she was stashing away an egg nest of her own in hopes of opening a gourmet restaurant one day. Her lifelong goal was to own an entire chain of five-star restaurants. With her MBA in hand, she was that much closer to her dream. But for the moment, she was content to begin and end her day at the upscale Café Le Soir, which she often referred to as the Café. Besides, the food was kind’a good, she’d muse every once in a while to her friends in jest.
K urt gazed up at his cousin Dwayne as he paced the carpeted floor like a recently caged cougar. His cousin’s rounded jaw was tight and visibly tense. The two men had started out having a friendly discussion about Kurt’s social and romantic life. More so, the lack of the two. But there were times the debate got heated. Kurt reminded his cousin throughout the discussion that this was his life and he shouldn’t interfere. Dwayne wasn’t having that.
“So what are you really trying to say, cous?” Kurt calmly asked, as he leaned forward in his chair, his arms draped lazily over his knees.
“Kurt, what I’m trying to say is that you’re acting as though you’re pussy whipped. And may I add whipped with a capital W!”
Crouching down before his cousin’s solemn form, until he was at eye level, Dwayne paused. Before him sat a man he greatly admired and respected above all others. And it pained him to the core to see his cousin suffering a bad case of the Blues .
“Look at you, man. You’re holed up in this joint like a Howard Hughes recluse. You’ve separated, with no girlfriend to turn to, and you have no social life. And from what I’m hearing, you’ve turned down every woman who has given you the key to the cookie store. I’m telling you, Leslie has got you in such an emotional rut you don’t know if you’re coming or going.”
“Thank you cous for your concern,”
A self-motivator, after two months of intense physical therapy, she was well enough to return to her trade. But the long hours of standing and heavy lifting required of a gourmet chef proved too much for her surgically repaired knee. On top of that, she found herself popping pain pill after pain pill, 800 mg at that. It wasn’t long before she was forced to rethink her future in the food business. Fortunately, she was already enrolled in the MBA program at the university, which made the prospect of making a career change at this point in her life appear less daunting. Inside of a year she received her MBA degree, and thanks to her connections in the restaurant business, she signed on with her present employer in Tampa. Though the job centered on the restaurant business, she was playing a different role this time and in a different capacity.
Yvette loved the restaurant business, the people, the food, the challenges, and, of course, the money – forty-five grand a year – her starting salary. The business chain she kept the books for revolved around six five-star restaurants. Her office was housed at the spacious Tampa Bay location. There was a restaurant in the Orlando area, one in St Augustine, Florida, one in the Daytona Beach, Florida area and two in the Ft Lauderdale/Miami area. Yvette managed the books for the Tampa, Daytona Beach and the Orlando restaurants via computer. Currently under construction in the St Cloud/Kissimmee tourist area was a 150 seat capacity split-level restaurant. Yvette was slated to manage the books there, too. In addition, the Florida based company had plans of opening four more restaurants over the next two years. Two in North Florida and two more in the South Florida/Key West area. At that point they would hire an additional accountant.
Great plans, no doubt, she thought when the expansion plans were announced. Growth meant more patrons, which meant more jobs and more profits, which meant a bigger pay raise for her. But she had plans of her own. Quietly she was stashing away an egg nest of her own in hopes of opening a gourmet restaurant one day. Her lifelong goal was to own an entire chain of five-star restaurants. With her MBA in hand, she was that much closer to her dream. But for the moment, she was content to begin and end her day at the upscale Café Le Soir, which she often referred to as the Café. Besides, the food was kind’a good, she’d muse every once in a while to her friends in jest.
K urt gazed up at his cousin Dwayne as he paced the carpeted floor like a recently caged cougar. His cousin’s rounded jaw was tight and visibly tense. The two men had started out having a friendly discussion about Kurt’s social and romantic life. More so, the lack of the two. But there were times the debate got heated. Kurt reminded his cousin throughout the discussion that this was his life and he shouldn’t interfere. Dwayne wasn’t having that.
“So what are you really trying to say, cous?” Kurt calmly asked, as he leaned forward in his chair, his arms draped lazily over his knees.
“Kurt, what I’m trying to say is that you’re acting as though you’re pussy whipped. And may I add whipped with a capital W!”
Crouching down before his cousin’s solemn form, until he was at eye level, Dwayne paused. Before him sat a man he greatly admired and respected above all others. And it pained him to the core to see his cousin suffering a bad case of the Blues .
“Look at you, man. You’re holed up in this joint like a Howard Hughes recluse. You’ve separated, with no girlfriend to turn to, and you have no social life. And from what I’m hearing, you’ve turned down every woman who has given you the key to the cookie store. I’m telling you, Leslie has got you in such an emotional rut you don’t know if you’re coming or going.”
“Thank you cous for your concern,”
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