The Art of the Pimp: One Man's Search for Love, Sex, and Money Read Free Page B

I’d ever experienced — sailing, fresh air, fishing, pretty girls — and until that moment, until I spoke about that long-ago summer in front of the class, I don’t think I had ever fully appreciated the sacrifice she had made to make that happen.
    I didn’t know what any of our stories had to do with self-improvement, but I remained intrigued.
    The following week we were asked to share another positive experience, going back to our high school days, and I made everyone laugh when I talked about what a relief it was to finally graduate, and to know that I would never again have to dissect a frog. But the third week we had to talk about something sad and when it was my turn I found myself remembering my German shepherd, Pat, who every day would park himself at the front window of our house, waiting for me to get home from school, and who for years was both my best friend and constant companion. When I got to the part where I had to watch him grow old, so old that all he could do was lie on his side and wag his tail a little, I got too choked up to finish, and to this day I can’t think about that dog without feeling a rush of sorrow.
    Other people had their own stories — one poor woman had lost a sister in a fire, and had gone back to try to save her, only to be overcome by smoke — and I cried just listening to her. That class taught me that everyone has a story, and that every life has value, and I learned the importance of listening to other people.
    More importantly, the class taught me that shit happens in every life, and that to worry about the possible outcome was both illogicaland counterproductive. Worrying had no purpose, and only left one paralyzed with fear and indecision. It was almost an act of self-sabotage. Sure, bad things happened, but worrying was not going to alter the future. The right approach to any challenge was to get the facts, analyze the facts, and ask yourself if you could live with the worst possible result. And if you thought about it with a clear head, you’d realize that the world wasn’t going to end. The lesson I took home with me is that everything in life involves risk, but to not take risks is to not live. People who don’t take risks seldom succeed.
    The other thing I learned is that busy people seldom have time to worry. If you’re sitting around doing nothing, your imagination starts running wild, and that’s when the problems start. But if you act, if you keep moving forward, you’ll be fine. Think of a bicycle: If you try to balance it while standing still, it’s not easy. But if you’re moving, it’s a breeze. That’s how I feel about life: Keep moving.
    IN 1972, THERE WAS A terrible gas shortage, but thanks to Dale Carnegie, I didn’t worry about it. The worst possible outcome was that I would lose everything and I’d have to start again from scratch. I didn’t love the idea, but I could live with it because I knew I’d survive. As it turned out, however, I was smart not to worry, because the shortage actually ended up working in my favor. One of the guys who made my oil deliveries said he might be able to make a few of them off the books. I was tempted to turn him down — the whole thing sounded a little shady — but I was responsible for five gas stations by that time and I had two dozen full-time employees. Without gas, I was going to have to start letting people go. If I took the deal, bad things could happen, too. I could get caught and be forced to face the consequences, both legal andfinancial. But I wasn’t breaking the law; I was only bending it a little. And to do nothing might have led to bankruptcy and put all of those good people on the street. So I took the risk, knowing I could face the consequences. And I took it again the next month and the month after that.
    And, in fact, one day a woman drove up and parked out front and came into the office to see me. She told me she owned a massage parlor on the edge of town, and