Hoffers Greenfield got the most insane shock of his life. On the D-day, he arrived the reception ground to see Charity Intercontinental already in place to execute the hosting of the banquet party for Mr. President.
With his hands rubbing his eyes to be sure of his sight, his heart came thudding, head waggled within his skull as he saw a host of Charity Intercontinental staff dishing out buffet of meals, spirits, rums wines, cake and hot barbecue to the delighted guests.
“No what is happening? Who are those people? Who is doing my job?” he queried and combed around the crowd with his stare, trying to catch sight of me.
The most maddening part of it was that he wasn’t allowed into the venue. He had arrived the venue with the countryside music star whom he hired with a whooping sum of money, an MC of the state of art, who charged him another whooping sum of money and then the delightsome dishes and wines from Rome which he bought on credit , with the hope of paying after I must have refunded him.
As he swallowed hard and thought about the dilemma of the moment, he barely could keep calm.
Outside Hoffers nagged at the security, “You bulls are getting me irritated. I have introduced myself to you right. I am Hoffers Greenfield, the chairman of Hoffers Food.” His trembling hands waved across. “Here with me are my staff and the country side musician and the MC for the occasion. We have been hired for this job.”
Tears swam in his voice; it was by sheer grace that he fought back the urge to cry.
The security gave a firm nod of disapproval, “You must be missing your way, Mr. Hoffers. This is the 80th birth day party of Mr. President, organized by the world richest man.”
“Yeah! Yeah! The world richest…” he hastily interrupted him.
“Keep shut, I am still speaking!”The security snapped and made his hostile face at him in a bid to issue out a warning.
Hoffers grinned in humility yet feeling his knees parting him in fear and his shoulders sinking in loss.
“I said you don’t have a place here. I perceive you missed your way or something. First you don’t have a ticket that guarantees your pass into the reception ground. Second you are gate-crashing but you claim to be the contracted restaurant to host Mr. President.”
Hoffers let repeated nodding which came from an outburst, “No! No! you are misunderstanding me, maestro!” his voice gathered bickering and he almost broke down in tears when he caught sight of Charity’s bartenders all in red and white tuxedo and bow tie, carrying around trays of wine, barbecue, and tending to VIPs.
The security beamed, “Now make me understand, gate-crasher! Prove your argument!”
Hoffers swallowed hard and promised within himself not to be an ass by wailing now. “Mike Don , the world richest man hired me two days ago . In fact he instructed me to execute the contract with my money.” He glanced around, waving across his staffers, “You can ask my staff about this.” His tone deepened in protest, “Mike Don emphasized that Charity Intercontinental was a mistake and I was the right restaurant for this job, so I am stunned to see Charity executing the contract instead of me. Is mike Don aware of this?”
A security burst into an offensive laugh before the rest got charmed into it and laughed haphazardly.
“Can you listen to yourself, Hoffers?” another security let a smacking tone, “Our boss , Mike Don can’t be so silly to hire two restaurant for same job. Everybody could attest to it, even it got in the news that Charity Intercontinental has been hired for the hosting of the banquet party of Mr. President…”
“Have you been listening to news at all, huh?” another security queried and snapped his eyes brow at him, “Now you see the reason we told you to vacate this premises, because not only are you not welcomed here, you are such a gold digger, huh” the security tossed a dollar note at his feet, “I perceive you to be a cheap ass beggar, go ahead and sort your hunger with that.”
The rest burst into another maddening laugh and choked on it.
Hoffers face roughened and his countenance boiled as the devils’ broth. “I beg your pardon. I guess you don’t know who you are talking to. Do you know who I am huh?” he stared down the security and snarled, “You can ask Mike Don, your boss about me, even he was once my delivery boy…”
The host of security interposed him with a mocking menacing laugh which caught the attention of some onlookers.
“There you go again, Hoffers huh. Can you listen to yourself? Mike Don? Do you realize that the god of wealth you speak of is currently worth five hundred trillion dollars? How can you claim to have employed such a Croesus as your delivery boy?”
Another security beamed, “I would apologize on behalf of the broke ass Hoffers standing foolishly before us. I guess he intended to say he is the delivery boy to Mike Don. Can’t you all see his looks and the hungry-looking people he hired as staff?”
The security burst into a mind-snatching laugh.
His staff stared down to their feet as though to confirm their looks.
Hoffers swallowed hard and hastily lowered his gaze when those tears dared to leak through his eyes. He was yet swallowed into the gloom of his thought when his aide advanced to him.
“Boss,” he mumbled, “They are making jest of us. Are you sure Mike Don hired us for this job, because it is all glaring that he hired Charity Intercontinental for the contract. We can just return back to the office and save ourselves this embarrassment…”
Hoffers thundered, “What do you mean? Do you realize I have spent our capital base on this contract, hoping to get a refund form Mike Don afterwards?”
The aide raised a furrowed brow and bulged eyes.
Payback time…