The End of My Entrepreneurial Career

When I was about eight or nine, I had a brilliant mind for business. And a piece of fool's gold I discovered in the street.

I recruited my best friend to create marketing materials (a poster that screamed "GOLD FOR SALE"), scouted out an ideal location for our budding business (her front yard), and actively sought out new clientele (holding up the sign meaningfully at passersby).

It wasn't long before our business began realizing profits. An older girl who lived down the street strolled by and quickly became enamored with a particularly lovely (compared to most gravel) piece of pyrite. After some amiable but perhaps not altogether ethical (senator I do not recall) haggling, she walked away the proud owner of a (relatively) shiny new treasure (which she may or may not have been led to believe was actual gold). For the low, low price of only $6.00. I'm no math genius, but I'm pretty sure that's like a 600% profit. And I assure you, the customer was very happy, and since you can't put a price on happiness, she was technically taking advantage of us.

My friend's mom vehemently disagreed. Upon discovering the fruits of our wildly successful entrepreneurial labors, she scolded us and made us return the $6.00, thus destroying all of our hopes and dreams and putting an end to what could have been a LOT of candy bars.

And that, dear reader, is how I became a lowly copywriter/self-deluded artist instead of the unsavory but wealthy used car salesperson I might otherwise have been destined to become.