As the story begins, I was born amidst the smoke stacked chimneys, one foggy morning in London. As a young child I had always aspired to make something of my life, to escape from the drudgery that lied ahead. Opportunity knocked, and one day, aboard the Queen Mary I made the most arduous trip of my life across the seas to come to a place of magnificence known as America.
Several years later, good fortune washed ashore to a tropical island known as Miami Beach, to a place where I now call home and landed me job in a prestigious Real Estate Company, by the name of EWM.
The interview process was touch and go. Even with 15 years of management behind my belt and a cute accent, I had the fear that I wasn’t going to be able to close this one and then I remembered something, my trump card.
I was a graduate of the Xerox Institute.
I knew how read the error instructions on the display of the copier machine.
I could follow those highly technical directions such as:
Open drawer A and remove any jammed paper
or
Open the front cover, release lever B and turn the handle 3 times until the paper comes out.
With hidden skills like this, I was indispensable, I was one of a kind.
The Broker thought so as well and at that, he jumped up from his chair, shook my hand and welcomed me aboard.
And that rest is history. I have other responsibilities in my position, but nothing else as prestigious and important as being able to fix the copy machine.
Especially to all of my 85 agents, each dear one of them who of course do not have the knowledge and skills to even begin to fathom how to unblock a piece of jammed paper. All their negotiating, prospecting, advertising, marketing, contract writing skills in the world, couldn’t possibly compare to my genius expertise when it comes to a copy machine.
For without my talent, they are nothing! For I am gifted! Because I graduated from the Xerox Institute.
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