He saw his friend working hard to make a quick buck always moving around in his beat up car. But what he saw when he got to his house is shocking.
I was poor growing up, and most of my friends were poor/middle class. There was this one dude who drove a shitty, falling apart beater car. He was always hustling to and from work, trying to make a buck to afford repairs for his car. We all thought he was lucky just to have a car.
One night, after we had been friends for a while, he invited a bunch of us over to his house. Even
offered to pick us all up, since no one else had our own wheels. Imagine our surprise when we rolled up into the ritziest neighborhood in our area.
Dude lived in a mansion. Indoor pool, elevator, the whole nine yards. We were flummoxed. Someone said, “Dude, we had no idea you were rich.”
His answer: I’m not rich, my parents are; they worked very hard to get that way. At first, we felt bad for him – filthy rich parents and dude is working his ass off to afford a beater?!?
Now I get it though.
He was lucky his parents cared enough to instill a work ethic in him. It turned out to be a very good
thing, in the long run.
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