Charles took his time getting dressed. He had a dozen suits to choose from, all from the last year of what can only be described as a meteoric rise. He had to fire someone last week. "You see the difference between you and me, is that I pay attention to the details. You don't see me waiting for my shot. I go out there and I make my shot!"
Charles had his hair slicked back, €2,000 calf-skin shoes, gold cufflinks, a waistcoat, a €500 tie (with antique tie pin) and of course matching socks, when he left his meticulously decorated, and safe to say, extremely exclusive apartment. He took the lift down to the garage, where he got into his brand new BMW. The Eagles' "Take It To the Limit" blasted out of the Bose brand speakers. His motto being, "Take it to the limit, every time.
As he sat in traffic he dictated the second chapter of his memoir. He was still playing the title, but it was more or less guaranteed to contain the words, "Alpha," "Male," and "Synergy". Traffic was moving achingly slow. The light went green. The in front failed to move. About half a second later, Charles beeped the horn. "Come on you jerk! Let's move it! Some of us have work to get to!"
Smoke was billowing out of the car in front, which happened to be a run down Fiat. Other cars started to move around it. Charles did too, but slowed down when he reached the side of the broken down car, winding down his window and shouting at the bewildered elderly man who was behind the wheel. "Hey you! Schmuck face! Why don't you get a real car? You pitiful peasant!" He then proceeded to throw his coffee at the man's window.
When Charles got into work, he couldn't have been in a better mood. No-one greeted or acknowledged him as he came through the door. "That's respect," he thought to himself, "You can't buy that." He sat down, put on a pair of headphones, steadied himself and spoke into the microphone, "Welcome to McDonald's, how may I help you?"
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