Check out that picture. Take a good, long look. Do you know who that is? That's me. I'm a mother fucking business man who is serious about getting things done. I'm Fortune 500 and I have the country club membership to back it up. Don't let my clean-cut image and slight smirk fool you into thinking I'm soft; I'm as hardcore and power hungry as they come. My suit costs more than you make in a year and I'm not afraid to tell you about it in the elevator, which I am riding up to the top floor. That's where my seat of power is because I'm running the whole fucking show and I have the business cards to prove it. My fucking name in a gold font. You won't find these in any of those "win a free lunch" jars at chain restaurants. They don't serve power lunches and that's all I'm having.

Look at my tie. My fucking blue tie. It's made of material that's illegal to purchase in the United States, made by immigrant children in a country you never heard of. And I have custom socks to match. When you dress like I do, you exude success and bitches go crazy for that shit. Do you see those two women in the background? All it would take is for me to flash them a quick smile and show them the polish on my shoes and they'd be asking me for sex in my office before anyone knew what was going down. I'd be like, whatever, blurry face, I don't have time for you. I got business to take care of. Hell, I could even make the dude on the right get freaky with my asshole if I swung that way but instead, I just send him to get me coffee. No fucking foam. You don't get to where I am drinking shit like that.

You know how you know I'm important? Because someone took a picture of me standing in front of people. Look at them back there, just smiling. I should fire all of them; business isn't about smiles. It's about getting stuff done. I'm carrying a fucking folder in my arms, so you know I've either gotten shit done already or I am on my way to get some shit done. There's probably a meeting in conference room B. I got so many folders that I got folders full of folders. Business ledgers and stock reports from the last quarter, whenever the fuck that was. Important business shit. I make a point to use the word "portfolio" as often as I can, so you know I'm the real deal.

Private bathrooms. Private parties. Private jets. Office, top floor. Alcohol, top shelf. My expense report contains numbers larger than some third world country's GDP. Major leagues. Ivy league. I graduated with so many honors that even my degree has honorary degrees. When I go for a jog, I sweat success. Bottle that shit up and sell it. If I wasn't so fucking busy being important, I'd write a book on how to become important, but it'd just be my autobiography. If you don't need at least four accountants to figure out your net worth, you are not on my level.

When you walk into my office, assuming you're able to get past the security checkpoint and one of my three secretaries, this is what you'll see: me looking at all kinds of charts and graphs. Can't see them? I'll point at them with a fucking pen until you understand what you're dealing with. Raw. Business. Power. Don't ask me to open that email you sent. One, I didn't read it. I don't give a shit how many times you click that "high importance" flag in Outlook. Two, can you see my screen? I got way too many windows open. In fact, I have so many windows open that I had to get a second computer screen just to display the rest of my windows. All manner of reports and graphs. No pie charts, though. That shit is homo. Seriously, I can't even see my desktop. How the hell am I supposed to do email with all of this business on my screen?

That's why you'll never find me without my cell phone in my hand, because I'm either in the process of making a call or preparing to make a call. Old school style. I spend my day talking to other business people about all of the serious fucking business we're doing. I got no time for interruptions unless you're bringing me that report that I asked you for yesterday. Not pictured is my bluetooth. It's on my other ear. I'm on that all the time, making deals. Ordering lunch. Ordering my secretaries to order lunch. I'll have a light salad or maybe just a power bar. Nothing too heavy because I'm always on my toes, even when I'm sitting down.

"Jerry, did you see all of these fucking lines in this spreadsheet?" That's business.