The secret of my success: Cooperation
I would very much like to take all the credit for the business empire I have built, and my conscience is not very shaky, even if I take Mr. Ahtisaari’s Nobel Prize. I’m not the most outspoken type, but a pretty workaholic. However, behind the success of my business, in addition to myself, there is such a colorful group that just because of the entertainment value, I want to bring out their role.
It was a normal weekday when I was reading the site’s emails. A message from a Finnish guy working professionally in the online industry had sprung up. In the message, the person hoped for cooperation. I was tremendously excited, albeit overwhelmed by the cheater syndrome. After all, I knew little or nothing about anything. I happened to be in the right place at the right time and smelled the trends. So far, my finances have been as strong as my current twenties erection. I was wondering what I could do with this other young man? So not with my strong erection but with online cooperation.
The day came when we first met with me behind God’s back. Valtter’s style was almost as hemp-like as his own. We were clearly in the IT industry or on the pulse. Actually, both of them a hybrid. We were united by many things, most notably the unscrupulous luster of money in our eyes, the unparalleled intelligence, and the shortcomings in general life management. In both cases, the liquor took the man and there was not much left to remember from the common business bridges due to the lack of memories, but the success in the business was epic. Valtteri was unbeatable in his role.
For both, however, time hone off the worst edges of our character. Valtteri has got his life well and I try the same myself.
Still in the rocking chair, I can still recall the misfortunes we experienced with Valtter. One of the most memorable is the morning after the bar adventure in the village. Valtteri had forgotten his laptop and decided to take a taxi ride to me. The taxi driver took a close look at Valtter, who, in a tattered leather jacket, long hair in a coat of old liquor, lute in the back seat of the taxi. Surely the taxi wise, wise about the damage, was not convinced of Valtter’s ability to pay and asked for an advance payment for the pick-up. Valtteri nodded, as a humble boy, that a certain yeah, with trembling hands, dug a wallet out of his skin with a trembling hand while suffering of hangover. At the same time, the contents of the wallet, ie EUR 5,000 in cash, spread on the floor of a Lestadian bus. The taxi driver said we weren’t letting it be paid in advance.
As a young man, we thought we were immortal and tough guys, but the hard-biting tooth of time is ruthless. For Valtter, wet evenings are now swimming pool trips and the pumped-up Barbara as a decorative element has changed into a valuable art, for me the beer has changed to a light lemonade and instead of the rebellion of youth, I am worse off than ever.