Gil Humplestead is a 23-year-old, recent college graduate who just got his first real job as a Junior Marketing Assistant Coordinator with Incorporated Partners & Co. Today, he chronicles his plans for 2014.
Monday, January 13, 2014
First off, happy New Year, man! 2013 was a pretty sweet year for me, wouldn’t you say? Lots of awesome things on the horizon for your boy and I can’t wait to see what 2014 has in store. My New Year’s Facebook post got 12 likes, so it’s already looking like 2014 will be the year of Gil Humplestead.
If there’s anything I learned from my fourth viewing of my pirated download of The Wolf of Wall Street last weekend, it’s that you have to take chances in life. You have to realize when to open your own shop, just like Jordan Belfort did with Stratton Oakmont. I need to find my Stratton Oakmont in 2014. I also need to find a guy who will sell me quaaludes in 2014, too, because those apparently hold the key to success. I know they don’t exist anymore, but when you’re a success-hungry industry shark like Gil Humplestead, you’ll stop at nothing to make Forbes 30 under 30, ‘ludes or no ‘ludes.
I took a lot of lessons away from WoWS. I really want to start cranking it three times a day, just like McConaughey said you’re supposed to. I usually get one off in the morning after doing Insanity: Asylum, but I still haven’t found a good spot to do it in the office. Terry and I have the same bathroom schedule. How am I supposed to get my afternoon success tug in while Terr Bear is blowing up the stall next to me?
I tried to find a guy who would sell me coke, but I haven’t had much luck with that. I asked my buddy from high school who does a ton of whippets if he has a guy, but the only guy he knew was one that works at Lowe’s selling old cans of spray paint to huffers. I tried that out last week, and while I’ve never done cocaine, I don’t think the two are similar. From what I’ve heard, cocaine doesn’t make you hallucinate and have homicidal thoughts. I had to take a sick day to stay at home, because I didn’t want to leave my house and I had gold paint all over my nose. It was a dead giveaway. If my face was covered with premium Colombian bam-bam, I’d have shown up to the office. That’s a power move. Strolling into the office looking like I had just gone down on C-3PO isn’t the look I’m going for.
Back to my plans for 2014. I drafted up a two-weeks notice letter, but I’m not exactly sure how I should go about quitting. I’d like to have a job lined up first, because the power brokers of the world will be lining up for Gil Humplestead once my resumé hits TheLadders. Five months of real world experience with two grand in sales commish isn’t something they can’t ignore.
“The key to success is to be so good that they have to notice you.” -Sean Parker
I can’t live on no $30k/year + benefits plan. I’m 23 years old. If I’m ever gonna be a billionaire, I have to start stacking sky high cake now. I’ve got the experience and the know-how to take a company straight to the top of the NASDAQ once I implement my signature social media plan. I just have to muster up the courage to figure out the best way to go into free agency.
Once I figure out a way to quit that will go viral on the web, I’ll be a can’t-miss business prospect. The Bryce Harper of Wall Street, blasting 500-foot deal bombs that net financial windfalls, taking my personal stock public, Steve Madden-style.
So it’s up to me to figure out what’s going to take me to the top. I could keep working for the man and slave away in the hopes of making six figures before I turn 25, or I can go into business for myself, just like Wolfie.
Like I said, I learned a lot from WoWS. The most important thing I learned is that you should always be profiting 50% off what you’re selling. What I’m gonna do is pretty much what J-Belf did with penny stocks and do it with food at Humplestead’s Steak & Scotch. I’m gonna take shit food, serve it up to look fancy, cram it down my customers’ throats until they’re forced to swallow it and then charge them extra just so they can say they dined at Humplestead’s.
Will all of this be legal? I don’t know, but if anyone comes after The Hump, they better bring a gun to a lawyer fight, because Humplestead’s Steak & Scotch House will have the finest in legal representation once we go international. Good thing the FBI doesn’t really care about the restaurant biz. I’ll just pay off the health inspector every six months to keep everything on the hush-hush.
“Here are floor seats to the Lakers’ game next to Jeremy Piven. No one has to know that our premium bison burger is really just tube meat and deli meat mixed together.”
“Here’s $10,000 dollars. Don’t let anyone know that the lobster mac-n-cheese is really just Hamburger Helper with canned tuna mixed in.”
“Kale has the exact same consistency as two-week old discount baby spinach. Take these orchestra seats to The King & I and zip it.”
Humplestead’s is gonna be so classy that no one is gonna notice the quality of the food. You ever heard a complaint about a bad steak at Ruth’s Chris? No. I’ve never been inside of a Ruth’s Chris, but I imagine no one ever complains because the place is so on point with their interior decorating game.
The Steak & Scotch House is my ticket to the big show, Diary. It’s my way out. I just need to get some capital together by going on Shark Tank and wooing Barb Corcoran right out of her Ann Taylors. I figure five to ten mil should be enough to get it off the ground.
I gotta go now, Diary. This Shark Tank pitch isn’t gonna write itself.
Gilbert T. Humplestead, Sr.