1
Logan
Days like this I wondered why we even did this anymore. Most of the students that would come in here won’t know the difference between ROIs and profitability calendars. But they still think they can come and waste our time. I know I should give it up, we don’t need the community’s support anymore, but sometimes there was a diamond in the rough.
Every once in a while, and I mean once in the past few years, something actually fucking impressed me. Otherwise, their idea just ended up getting bought, and they can go about their lives with their fresh few million and I have a shiny new business venture.
Jana, our dutiful secretary, already had our table set up with pen pads and a pitcher of water. For a few hours, we would be the students looking at the presentation board. As always, I was early enough to scope out the applicants and my partner, Jake, would come right in and expects me to fill him in seconds before the first applicant started. Because he is also my best friend, I always did.
But still, it was annoying.
“Your first presentation is in fifteen minutes.” Jana set the roster down in front of me with a friendly smile. Jana also moonlighted as our trusted confidant, she has been with us for years. Since the very beginning when we were running off loans until we made a name for ourselves.
“Thanks.”
I took off my sports coat and adjusted my tie. I had gotten used to being overdressed next to Jake. He always looked like he just left the gym; the MMA gym we own and was our first endeavor. It started out as just that, a gym, but now it was home to a few B-list fighters, Division I schools, and has become its own fitness brand. But I could never ditch my dress pants, tailored shirt, and silk tie. No way.
Jake finally came in with five minutes to go, when the first presenter was already outside. As I suspected, he was wearing khaki shorts and a Polo. He always had the buttons undone to show off his tattoo. I thought his shoulder piece of roses and thorns was a drunken mistake, but apparently it wasn’t. The chest tattoo was after that.
“You ready?” He sat next to me and I stifled my annoyance.
“I’ve been here for thirty minutes.” I said in response. He just laughed and shook his head.
He took one pen pad, and in big letters he wrote ‘yes’ on one, and ‘no’ on the other. I shook my head, but smiled.
“Whatever. The only way we work is when you do the hard work, and I seal the deal with my thug tattoo and muscles. It’s proven.” Man, he was a dick sometimes, but also an entrepreneurial genius.
When we met in college, I planned to just work on software, and maybe develop my own. But he stepped in and showed me how to brand myself, and how to make a fortune with my brain. I was opposed to starting out with investments like the gym and coffee shops for undergrads, but it was what built us. Now, we could pretty much do whatever the hell we wanted. And a lot of that was due to his attitude.
“Right.”
He geared up for another rebuttal but then there was a knock, and Jana told us number one was here. Jake didn’t hide his ‘I’d rather be anywhere else’ groan. But he knew why we did this. Mentorship was a big deal, especially when you can make someone loyal to you at a young age, and become their spring board.
These younger people have great ideas…some of them. Jake and I were both almost thirty, we had lost touch with what was trending, and selling. So, these hopeful college students come in and tell us what we we’re missing, and we give them an offer they can’t refuse to capitalize on it. It’s fool proof.
“Who is this guy?” Jake grabbed the roster,
and found his file in the large stack of thirty.
We had a team vet all these applications before we even looked at them. We get almost two thousand proposals, and they narrow it down to thirty before they subject us to hours of unpreparedness and entitlement. Seriously, it gets worse every year.
The school specifically might be the problem, it was no Ivy League, but UCLA had a lot of pretentious students, fueled by family money and entitlement. Only a rare gem actually deserved what we have to offer, and I doubted I would even see one today.
“Something about sustainable agriculture?” Jake asked. I chuckled softly and shook my head.
“No, recyclable agriculture. He is an Ag student, so that’s probably why we have never heard of it.” I told him. Jake shook his head and frowned.
“Hopefully it’s good.”