| A while back, while livin' in New York
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| | wasn't a woman he was after, but a man.
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| City, I became acquainted with this guy
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| | Vince had the guy positively enthralled
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| named Harry Vincent. He was somethin'
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| | in his conversation. After a few moments,
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| else. Ol' Vince liked to show off a lot,
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| | Vince pats him on the shoulder, smoothly
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| as shown by his daily food regimen of
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| | palms a business card into his hand,
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| booze and loose city girls. It was pretty
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| | winks with a sly smile, and then walks
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| tough on the ego hangin' around him; I
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| | back toward us. He saw the look on our
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| had recently started my so-called writing
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| | faces as he sat. All he said was "Just
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| career and the cash wasn't rollin' in
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| | business." And that was that.
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| like I had planned. When Vince and I
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| | Alright, he probably did have some sort
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| would go to the local bistro, he'd
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| | of secret. Charisma or somethin'. But
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| usually surround himself with a sensual
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| | everything he did that night fell on one
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| panorama of mouth-watering full course
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| | thing. It wasn't his alcohol level. It
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| treatment. I, on the other hand, stuck to
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| | wasn't the smile. It wasn't even his
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| the crusty French bread, topping it with
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| | persuasive conversation. It was his
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| cold, unspreadable butter. He'd drink
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| | business card.
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| some of the finest grape nectar your
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| | Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying
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| palate could ever reach, while I would
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| | that a card made a difference between
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| stick with some tasty tap.
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| | sale or bail, but all that talk, all that
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| Ok, maybe he was a bit of a jerk, I'll
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| | smile, and all that swagger, would have
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| admit to that. So why did I stick around
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| | been to waste if it wasn't closed by the
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| him so much? Well, he wouldn't really rub
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| | exchange of a business contact card. It
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| things in, so he wasn't a complete
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| | didn't even dawn on me how important it
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| butthead. But the allure of being in his
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| | was until I noticed how many people do
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| company was that I learned something new
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| | exactly what he did, sell themselves, and
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| EVERY time.
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| | then say "Here, let me call your cell
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| See, Vince was successful. Pretty damn
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| | phone so you can get my number." Business
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| successful. And I'd love to say there was
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| | cards are free, what's so hard about
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| a secret to his success, but there
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| | carrying them around?
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| wasn't. He would never tell you if you'd
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| | A few days later, I meet Vince for lunch.
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| ask him, but all you had to do was pay
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| | I figured that while splurging on
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| attention. It wasn't even really what he
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| | restaurantal delights I'd be able to get
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| did; he would do the same things most
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| | the full story on the other night's
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| people in his field did. It was how he
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| | events. As I pull up, I see Vince leaning
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| did it. His style of doing it. Let me try
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| | on a nice little whip of a sports car. As
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| to explain.
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| | I open my door, he pockets his cell phone
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| It was guy's night out and we were at a
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| | in movie star fashion, putting up his sly
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| pretty high class 'bar' of sorts. A few
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| | smile in the process. I say, "You're
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| friends, some women we had met, and of
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| | kidding." He says "Would I?" That's all I
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| course, Vince. We were havin' a good
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| | needed to know. Son of a gun closed a
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| time, havin' a few drinks, and pretty
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| | sale guaranteeing him a nice upfront
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| much enjoying our bachelor status. Then,
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| | chunk along with recurring commissions
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| right in the middle of conversation,
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| | through to the next seven months. The guy
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| Vince gets up, winks at us, and says
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| | at the bar bought in. Vince now drives
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| "Opportunity knocks." Everyone was left
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| | faster. I asked him what he did. His
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| confused. Me, on the other hand, knowing
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| | exact words: "He liked my card."
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| how Vince works, just kept my cool. I
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| | Vince built his career on the design of
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| figured he had found someone that caught
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| | his business card and style of his
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| his eye, more than likely a woman. So we
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| | exchange. It was his trademark
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| all eye him. And to my surprise, it
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| | repertoire.
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