Weekend at Bernie’s

A few years ago, I visited a friend in the Hamptons the weekend after the Fourth of July. On the jitney ride there, I overheard people speaking of a party being thrown at 216 Montauk highway where all the high rollers would be in attendance. Naturally, I decided to also make my way there. My friend was no stranger to the upper echelon so getting an invite was about as cumbersome as a 2 minute phone call. A few hours later, we were knee deep in models, bottles, celebs in linens and things and slew of illicit unmentionables (that shall remain just that).

Seven glasses of Clicqot later, I staggered upon a conversation where the inebriated host spoke boisterously of his investment portfolio and how profitable his firm had been for their clients. To say he had the ear of his already affluent guests would be an understatement. This balding unassuming man had managed to make billions over the course of his career. As an up and coming finance analyst, I was equally intrigued and impressed. I managed to solicit a conversation with “Bernie”, as he was affectionately called by his guests and it went a little something like this:

Me: Excuse me, do you know where the bathroom is?
Bernie: Downstairs, make a right.
Me: Thanks.
Bernie: No problem.
Me: I couldn’t help but over hear you earlier. How were you able to make so much money so consistently?
Bernie: I made it all up. I just haven’t gotten caught yet.

Bernie laughed loudly as he walked away and I did too. I knew he was hammered also so I never gave it a second thought. A few year later, I turn on the news and wouldn’t you know it…

The moral of the story is stop believing everything you read.

To read more from contributor, Alfred Obiesie, visit his blog at http://crazedafrykan.blogspot.com.

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