Hoffers Greenfield was so broke that he had to do menial jobs in the restaurant to survive. He had a target of earning at least five hundred dollars which could foot his fare to Georgia, his maternal home town which was his final destination.
He had succeeded in securing a bartender job at a restaurant somewhere around town, which was in the suburb and located out of eyes reach. Just like Fanny and Melissa, Hoffers had heard news about the decline of my net worth and he celebrated my downfall.
Hoffers, who wasn’t a reader of news paper found himself sourcing for newspapers at the vendors and when he finally found the news, he read repeatedly and couldn’t wait to see me with his two eyes and mock me to scorn.
The media homes had taken advantage of my downfall to promote their enterprises and generate enough money. In no distance time Hoffers Greenfield , like every other Rio Hondo read and heard news of my downfall which trended all over the streets , TV stations d and social media.
In fact Hoffers Greenfield had particularly declared a shout out at the restaurant where he worked and ensured every staff had enough to drink just to celebrate my failure.
“Everyone take any drink of choice, buzz on me. I am celebrating the downfall of my enemy!” he ranted and uncorked his fifth beer, before pushing it in the air and added, “Cheers!”
“Who is this enemy of yours, Hoffers?” a young man, short-haired, blue- eyed with towering height, asked him. The young man was also a staff.
With his eyes sparkled with excitement and his mouth curved into a smile, Hoffers replied , “My dear , who else would it be if not the only broke ass Croesus who is trending now, Mike Don , the world richest man. That bastard made me sniff hell while alive,”
The young man dragged a narrowed brow. “Everyone is as surprised as you, Hoffers. I am yet to understand what brought about the downfall of Mike Don. How can he have a decline from five hundred trillion dollars to one hundred thousand dollars …”
Hoffers almost got choked with his drink, “Hey! Hey! You don’t have the right information. Next time you need to get the right information from me before saying trash. Mike Don has lost his entire net worth!” he beamed and stretched to a newspaper, “Can’t you see this?” he raised the newspaper to the view of the beholder.
“Oh Jupiter’s brain!” the young man exclaimed as he read the news with his mouth gaping, “But how come? Mike Don has unlimited wealth. This can’t be possible. How can the true hair to the Saint Don Group lose his fortune overnight? Do you know what it means to be heir to the Saint Don Group?”
Hoffers swore under his breath and gave him a dirty look. “Hey spare me that. Saint Don Group my ass! What is so special about the Saint Don Group? Can’t you see in the news that they lost their largest revenue after the Alafin oil ship crash and the moment the state withdrew the oil well from them. Promptly they ran out of stock, their clients were so disappointed in their limited supply of oil that they took their patronage elsewhere.” He snarled and gulped one, “Hey, buddy, Mike Don is back to poverty, serves him right.”
The young man interposed, “But where could he be now? He hasn’t reacted to the public. No one seems to know where he is and what he is up to. Could it be that he has gone on self exile since he can’t withstand the pressure from public?”
Hoffers shrugged, “Hey what do you expect a prodigal, idiotic son of a gun to do, huh? Mike Don was busy wasting his father’s wealth on luxuries and vacation to the best destination. He never expected what just hit him.” He squeezed his lips and sighed. “I believe the asshole has gone into hiding, somewhere in a suburb and out of the eyes of the public.” He burst into a radical laugh, “You know karma is a bitch. All Mike Don did to me; I will reciprocate in double folds. I can’t wait to laugh him to scorn.”
He was yet speaking when a dashing, curvaceous lady, a customer, interfered; she had been reading the speculative news of my downfall on her phone, and when she heard Hoffers and his colleagues discuss it, she decided to confirm it.
“But how true is that?” she intoned calmly, corking her eyebrow and shooting her stare at Hoffers. “Is Mike Don actually back to poverty? Has he lost his five hundred trillion dollars?”
Hoffers hissed and cursed the lady inwardly, “Are you still asking such question? You should rather be asking me if he is back to his job as a delivery boy because that is what he knows how to do best.”
The lady sucked a deep breath, dimmed her eyes at him and swallowed hard. A haze of darkness cracked her face and her eyes reddened. She was actually a fan and one of my admirers. Instantly she hated Hoffers for saying such about me.
“Hey why do you speak such of the world richest man? I can’t believe the news making the round. Mike Don is still the world richest man. Why don’t we hold on until we hear from him? You don’t have to sound so impossible …” quarrel hung in her voice.
Hoffers writhed in hurt as he cursed the lady, “Hey, why don’t you take your miserable self out of this restaurant if you don’t have anything meaningful to say. There is no Mike Don anymore. We have a new rich kid in the block and his name is Thomas Jackson, who is worth four hundred trillion dollars,” he raised a newspaper, “Haven’t you been reading the newspaper? Are you trying to tell me the media homes are bunch of liars, huh?”
Angry Hoffers gulped his drink, rolled his eyes at his offender, cursed her and trudged away.
“Hey I still believe in Mike Don…” the lady sounded and masked her face to cry…
Fingers crossed.