Post by Deleted on Oct 10, 2013 16:05:35 GMT -5
Walking around my house, bathing in the California sun that pours through my windows, has never felt better right now. Everything just seems better, everyone that’s doubted me is now running onto the Garrett bandwagon, I’ve been entered into the International Title tournament, and I proved myself, yet again, against Shawn Malakai. To quote a Michael Buble song for a moment, “It’s a beautiful day and I can’t stop myself from smiling.” I’ve already received calls from many magazines asking for interviews, celebrities wishing me congrats, this has been a whirlwind of a time, and it couldn’t have happened to a better guy, me.
I’ve been all around the world on movie shoots, premiers, now in the WFWF, but there really is no place like home, for me, Sacramento. Everyone knows to stay out of my business, unlike people in LA, and plus I have my million dollar mansion, my cars, and every other thing I could ever want. Travelling doesn’t faze me much anymore. I’m not one to get homesick when I’m out away from home. I’m content with being a world travelling famous superstar; it’s my kind of life.
I decide to get ready, do some shopping, got to get out to do some running around sooner or later. I’m halfway out the door when I get a call to my home phone number. Of course, another interview request, or something like that. I look at the caller ID, a Sacramento number I’ve never seen. I pick up.
“Hello?”
“Jayson Garrett?”
“Yeah that’s me, can I help you?”
“As a matter of fact yes you can. I’d like to meet up with you, does today at one at the Starbucks off of Sacramento Drive sound good?”
“Uh, sure, I guess. I’ll see you then?”
“Indeed you will.”
Well then, another interviewer I presume. At least they’ll be doing it at a convenient time and place. I scratch my plans for the day and head over to the Starbucks. I get there at around 12:45 and order a passion fruit tea and take a seat. I take periodical sips while waiting for the guy to show up. I don’t know why I agreed to this, for all I know they could be some obsessed fan. At least it’s in a public place. It’s 1:05 when a man walks in with a scruffy beard, old black shirt from Hollister and light blue jeans. He walks in and peers around the room before spotting me and heading over. I stand up.
“You’re late,” I say as I offer my hand. He ignores me, well then. I take a seat and begin to talk.
“Who are you?” The man chuckles before speaking.
“My name is Curtis Alexander and I’m asking you for a favor. I moved out here two years ago and haven’t caught a break yet. I’ve always been interested in public relations yet I can’t seem to get a foot in the door because I don’t have the right connections. This is why I tracked you down; I want you to hire me as your PR manager.”
I’m at a loss of words. This man who I’ve never met in my entire life somehow tracked down my phone number and now wants a job? It’s not happening that easy.
“Well first off, how did you find my number, it’s not even listened in a phone book, if anyone still uses those. And secondly, what makes you qualified to do anything for me?”
“To answer your first question, there’s nothing a little money can’t do. But your second question is laughable at best,” he slid me a manila folder, “this is a resume, so to speak. I’ve graduated from Purdue University with a degree in public relations at the age of 16, my masters’ degree from Kent State. So under qualified, I don’t think so. I’m not going to be a yes man for you, I’ll be doing what’s best for you whether you like it or not. You’ll end up hating me at times, but to be honest, I’m going to do what’s right for you.”
I open up the folder, he wasn’t lying. A sparkling resume, on-off lawyer, as it turns out he also studied law at Cornell, did some intern work, but very little under the references somehow. A guy like this shouldn’t be falling into my lap.
“I’m confused, how are you the one tracking me down? I should be the one looking for a guy like you to manage me.”
“As I mentioned, no one is hiring me because of a lack of connections which is stupid. So just give me an answer.”
“Sure, you’re hired.” I slide him my cell phone number, “This is my number; we’ll be talking quite a bit. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Alright, I’ll be in touch.” And with that he stands up and walks out of the Starbucks. As soon as he leaves I grab my phone and call Randall to give him the news.
“Hey Jayson, what’s going on?”
“Randall, look, as tough as this is, I’m going to have to let you go.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry man, it’s just that this guy called me out of the blue and his resume was too good to turn down. You’ll always have my support if you need anything.”
“Are you serious, after all I’ve helped you with, I got you your first roles, I signed you straight out of college and you don’t even meet with me?”
“I wanted to tell you ASAP, we’ll do lunch sometime in the near future. To be honest you’re recent work has been less than stellar at best; I think this’ll benefit both of us. I’ve got to go, I’ll call you later.”
“Yeah, whatever, bye.”
I don’t feel bad for Randall. If he’d done a better job these last few weeks, helping me avoid that little TMZ incident, I nearly missed my flight home as he forgot a wake-up call, his work has been slipping. I need to do what’s best for me, and I did.
I completely disagree with that line of thought that it’s better to be lucky than to be good. I’ve never needed luck to be a success; to me luck has always been a way to make you seem humble. You make your own breaks; you are your own success. Too many people try and find ways around being good. They try and find ways to be lucky or to just barely give enough effort to pass. My opponent, Mr. Ace Andrews, did just that. He lucked his way to some money and now thinks he’s a hotshot business man. Ace you aren’t worth a dime compared to me. No one would care if you walked down the street, you’d get a couple insignificant smiles from insignificant people, but that’s about it. Unlike you, I earned my worth in the movie industry, I earned my way to the top when I finished first in my college class, and I am going to earn my worth in the WFWF when I win the International Title for the first time. You’ve gotten lucky a couple times in a few matches here Ace, but I’ll show you it’s better to be good than lucky.
I’ve been all around the world on movie shoots, premiers, now in the WFWF, but there really is no place like home, for me, Sacramento. Everyone knows to stay out of my business, unlike people in LA, and plus I have my million dollar mansion, my cars, and every other thing I could ever want. Travelling doesn’t faze me much anymore. I’m not one to get homesick when I’m out away from home. I’m content with being a world travelling famous superstar; it’s my kind of life.
I decide to get ready, do some shopping, got to get out to do some running around sooner or later. I’m halfway out the door when I get a call to my home phone number. Of course, another interview request, or something like that. I look at the caller ID, a Sacramento number I’ve never seen. I pick up.
“Hello?”
“Jayson Garrett?”
“Yeah that’s me, can I help you?”
“As a matter of fact yes you can. I’d like to meet up with you, does today at one at the Starbucks off of Sacramento Drive sound good?”
“Uh, sure, I guess. I’ll see you then?”
“Indeed you will.”
Well then, another interviewer I presume. At least they’ll be doing it at a convenient time and place. I scratch my plans for the day and head over to the Starbucks. I get there at around 12:45 and order a passion fruit tea and take a seat. I take periodical sips while waiting for the guy to show up. I don’t know why I agreed to this, for all I know they could be some obsessed fan. At least it’s in a public place. It’s 1:05 when a man walks in with a scruffy beard, old black shirt from Hollister and light blue jeans. He walks in and peers around the room before spotting me and heading over. I stand up.
“You’re late,” I say as I offer my hand. He ignores me, well then. I take a seat and begin to talk.
“Who are you?” The man chuckles before speaking.
“My name is Curtis Alexander and I’m asking you for a favor. I moved out here two years ago and haven’t caught a break yet. I’ve always been interested in public relations yet I can’t seem to get a foot in the door because I don’t have the right connections. This is why I tracked you down; I want you to hire me as your PR manager.”
I’m at a loss of words. This man who I’ve never met in my entire life somehow tracked down my phone number and now wants a job? It’s not happening that easy.
“Well first off, how did you find my number, it’s not even listened in a phone book, if anyone still uses those. And secondly, what makes you qualified to do anything for me?”
“To answer your first question, there’s nothing a little money can’t do. But your second question is laughable at best,” he slid me a manila folder, “this is a resume, so to speak. I’ve graduated from Purdue University with a degree in public relations at the age of 16, my masters’ degree from Kent State. So under qualified, I don’t think so. I’m not going to be a yes man for you, I’ll be doing what’s best for you whether you like it or not. You’ll end up hating me at times, but to be honest, I’m going to do what’s right for you.”
I open up the folder, he wasn’t lying. A sparkling resume, on-off lawyer, as it turns out he also studied law at Cornell, did some intern work, but very little under the references somehow. A guy like this shouldn’t be falling into my lap.
“I’m confused, how are you the one tracking me down? I should be the one looking for a guy like you to manage me.”
“As I mentioned, no one is hiring me because of a lack of connections which is stupid. So just give me an answer.”
“Sure, you’re hired.” I slide him my cell phone number, “This is my number; we’ll be talking quite a bit. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Alright, I’ll be in touch.” And with that he stands up and walks out of the Starbucks. As soon as he leaves I grab my phone and call Randall to give him the news.
“Hey Jayson, what’s going on?”
“Randall, look, as tough as this is, I’m going to have to let you go.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry man, it’s just that this guy called me out of the blue and his resume was too good to turn down. You’ll always have my support if you need anything.”
“Are you serious, after all I’ve helped you with, I got you your first roles, I signed you straight out of college and you don’t even meet with me?”
“I wanted to tell you ASAP, we’ll do lunch sometime in the near future. To be honest you’re recent work has been less than stellar at best; I think this’ll benefit both of us. I’ve got to go, I’ll call you later.”
“Yeah, whatever, bye.”
I don’t feel bad for Randall. If he’d done a better job these last few weeks, helping me avoid that little TMZ incident, I nearly missed my flight home as he forgot a wake-up call, his work has been slipping. I need to do what’s best for me, and I did.
I completely disagree with that line of thought that it’s better to be lucky than to be good. I’ve never needed luck to be a success; to me luck has always been a way to make you seem humble. You make your own breaks; you are your own success. Too many people try and find ways around being good. They try and find ways to be lucky or to just barely give enough effort to pass. My opponent, Mr. Ace Andrews, did just that. He lucked his way to some money and now thinks he’s a hotshot business man. Ace you aren’t worth a dime compared to me. No one would care if you walked down the street, you’d get a couple insignificant smiles from insignificant people, but that’s about it. Unlike you, I earned my worth in the movie industry, I earned my way to the top when I finished first in my college class, and I am going to earn my worth in the WFWF when I win the International Title for the first time. You’ve gotten lucky a couple times in a few matches here Ace, but I’ll show you it’s better to be good than lucky.