A SECRET HAND-WRITTEN message goes out to each student. “20c for toasted sandwiches. 12.30pm – room 2A. Bring your own sandwich.”
And before I knew it, I was in business.
Toasting sandwiches on a fork, connected to a ruler, held up to the industrial school heater. Around 15 twelve-year-old girls became my regular clients. I constructed a 2-fork holding ruler, and with one in each hand, I toasted 4 sandwiches at a time. Warmth during winter, steady cash-flow. I was onto a winner.
Then… I got sprung.
The clients scattered. I was left holding the forks. And I got a detention.
However, the bug had bitten. I really liked money.
I ransacked my Dad’s storage boxes from his old stationery business and held a little ‘Before School Sale’ behind the shelter shed. I made out like a bandit with selling liquid paper, highlighters and glittery pens.
That business lasted four days before I got caught. And I got a detention.
Then… I managed to ‘extract’ a key from a music teacher’s pocket that… to my surprise… opened up a locked room. With a quick shimmy through a jammed shut window, I was in the school tower. I took tours up that dilapidated tower for $1.00 per girl, and $2.00 if you wanted a photo up the top. They never caught me with that one.
I guess I’ve always been hungry.
I’ve always hunted the dollar.
I’ve always assessed the risk, and then milked the opportunity if there was a big enough reward.
I think my early forays into making money provided the scaffolding required for the rest of my life.
What were your early jobs? Did you chase? Did you scheme? Did you strive?
That little kid is still in you – even if they’ve been buried by the weight of ‘adulting’.
Get in the hunt again.
There are opportunities.
It’s a matter of seeking them out, in the biggest playground of all… the markets.