We laughed all the way to the bank, and then we laughed some more.
It had been an eventful couple of weeks, as Rob and I had been planning, but the result managed to exceed our expectations. Now, a few years back, I used to set low expectations intentionally - a form of cynicism that was combined with a hint of fleeting optimism that I would be desperately attempting to hide - but those times were gone. Rob and I were wiser now, and we knew that the fruits of our labour would only be as satisfying as the confidence we poured into it, which is why, for our final hurrah, we went 'all in.'
It is said that people who try to scam others are more susceptible to manipulation themselves, and being aware of this, we took every precaution to prevent this from happening. As such, we both bordered on levels of extreme paranoia, relying on each other to curb certain thought processes from going too far. All in all, I'd say we did a pretty good job, which is why we are now sipping on Irish coffee, in a tropical paradise (yes, we drink hot beverages in an equatorial climate; screw convention).
Loneliness is not an issue when you have everything you could ever possibly want, which is why neither of us ever experience it. Whenever such emotions begin to surface, we must only observe how truly unfortunate our previous friends, family, and colleagues are now, continuing to toil at the hands of their masters for the minor privilege of being able to afford to live. No, we are better than them, and we have no use for their miserable company, either; who wants to be surrounded by a bunch of cretins complaining about their work lives? I can only sympathise with these ... these people for so long before enough is enough.
There is only one lingering problem, which is that I cannot trust Rob. Every so often, it occurs to me that he was willing to work alongside me in securing our fortune, an ethical horror show of epic proportions; the manifestation of the tired expression of taking candy from a baby. I would ask him about it, just in case this has not occurred to him, but he is a pretty intelligent fellow, and he probably doesn't trust me, either, which is another thing that I find annoying, because I happen to think that I am quite trustworthy. I mean, I trust myself, so why shouldn't he trust me too?
But everything is fine - really. If you see my friends, tell them that I was found hanging from a ceiling fixture in my uncle's house. The reality of our situation is something of which I'd prefer they remain unaware.
