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"God damn it!" I was cursing silently, having difficulty believing what I was hearing. I was at the airport, just about to board my business-class flight to a very important meeting. And now my secretary calls me up on my cell-phone and tells me that the CEO I was supposed to close this multi-million dollar deal with had gone down with a heart attack. Talk about bad luck! I had worked my ass off to convince him that this deal would work for both of our companies (I was of course bending the truth when I did that, but hey -- the one who tries to get more money in his way is not stupid, but rather the one who agrees to it). With my luck, his successor would most certainly be more cunning and the lucrative deal would not work out. I vehemently cursed at my secretary for delivering such bad news, then switched the phone off and stormed out of the terminal and on to my brand-new E-class Mercedes. Normally I would have been relaxed and checked out babes, as it was clear skies and almost 90 degrees and some of the sights thus quite incredible, but I was so furious that I wasn't even into that. (And not that my wife would be nothing to feel ashamed about, a prime trophy as she indeed is for any man, but you know how it goes when years pass...)

After aggressively honking the horn and overtaking more than a few vehicles at the highway, I started to feel a little bit better. Maybe the deal did not need to be lost, I surmised. After all, this CEO had been quite clever, and it was unlikely that any emergency substitute would be as cunning as he was. Yes, I started feeling much better with ...

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