The Gold Standard: Rules to Rule By by Gold Ari

Author:Gold, Ari [Gold, Ari]
Language: eng
Format: azw
Tags: Humor / Topic / Adult
Publisher: Hachette Books
Published: 2015-05-12T04:00:00+00:00

GOLD NUGGET

NEVER GIVE OUT YOUR NUMBER

Miss Potts was unquestionably the hottest teacher at my private high school. Twenty-nine years old, pencil skirts, librarian glasses, forget about it. I transferred into the school following a string of near-arrests with the “wrong crowd,” and Miss Potts immediately took an interest in me. At fifteen, I was five-one and 105 pounds, and my face had not yet grown into my features. I had Hobbit feet and a dirt ’stache, but Miss Potts said I was cute. She spent a lot of time with me after school, frequently offering to drive me home and occasionally giving me “hints” about test and homework answers. I was ready to joust every time she tousled my hair. And she loved to tousle my hair.

I fell hard for Miss Potts, and try as I might to be realistic, I couldn’t shake the feeling that my desires were reciprocated. Her long glances, her easy laughter, the fact that she would wait around for me after school day after day… I had to know. My parents were out of town when Miss Potts drove me home one night and I made my move.

“You want to come in for a drink?”

Her look let me know that I had tragically misread the situation. She didn’t even respond. She just looked sad and unlocked my door. It was the last ride home she ever gave me. After that awkward moment, I was completely cut off.

That was the last time I ever made the first move—in love, life, or business. Since that horrible evening in my parents’ driveway, I have never led with my number at a party or in a negotiation. Like my man Floyd Mayweather, I became a patient counterpuncher, suppressing eagerness and desire on behalf of leverage. I am certain that the strategic advantages of my “you need me more than I need you” attitude have led to millions of dollars of increased revenue for my companies. To that end, one could say that I indirectly owe Miss Potts a ton of cash, and to be honest with you, I would happily toss her a six-figure commission if she agreed to tell me what the fuck she was doing toying with the hormones of a skinny fifteen-year-old kid thirty years ago.

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