Survival Plan Survival Plan

Survival Plan

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Publisher Description

Janice is a hot looking babe. Janice also has a full function, working brain. Janice is actively dangerous, however, faint heart never wins a hot looking babe.
I wind up interviewing with Janice’ father for a job with what is described as a boutique investment firm. I get a nice job offer, which I accept, conditional on my graduating from college.
I graduate from Holy Roller U.
I go to work for Janice’ father. I’m assigned to work with Mikhail Ilyanovich. Mikhail is way insane. However, he has developed a set of equations that predict the future actions of at least some stocks, with great accuracy. However, not all of the equations work all of the time. I lack the mathematical background of Mikhail (I do know about the Tongva, Mikhail doesn’t,) but I learn from him and I also take some PhD level classes, courtesy of Janice’ father. (The Tongva, poetry and ‘to be or not to be’ don’t make me any money. Mikhail’s equations might make me considerable money. However, a college doesn’t like people to just take useful classes. The college wants to require me to take useless classes. Poor Jim, they can require, Janice’ father they can’t require.)
With Mikhail’s help, I develop a mathematical evaluation process that decides which of Mikhail’s equations will produce the best results, given certain macro investment conditions.
I then begin to make live test runs of Mikhail’s equations, using mostly my own capital, when Janice’ father is reluctant to risk much of his capital. (The live test runs involve commissions, trading delay via my broker’s trading screens, etc.)
During the process of my investment test runs, Mikhail begins to speak only in Russian.
Since I don’t speak Russian, I manage to get a Russian speaker in, to translate.
Mikhail is not speaking Russian, or apparently any other language. They send in people who fit Mikhail with a nice canvas belt in the back jacket and confine him to a room, with padded walls. Mikhail retreats into a world of his own, but not for a very long time.
In the process of developing Mikhail’s and my investment equations, I begin to socialize a bit with Janice. We date and also go to very upper class parties, in upper income areas of the San Gabriel Valley.
I can talk to the men about stock investments and I do reasonably well.
Janice talks with the ladies. Even when I hear what Janice and the ladies are talking about, much of the talk makes little or no sense. However, the ladies seem to understand what they and Janice are talking about and Janice, despite her young age, is accepted as an adult lady.
After a time, Janice moves in with me and we live in my house. (My house comfortably housed me, my mother and my father.)
Janice, however, complains about the lack of closet space.
I point out that she has two and a half closets for her stuff.
Janice tells me that a lady really needs a walk in closet.
(A walk in closet is actually a room, where a lady can walk in, review her clothes and select her daily wear items. Why would a woman need that many clothes?)
I’m doing okay with Janice, when the FBI stick their noses into my life.
The FBI accuses me of insider stock trading.
I politely explain, “Listen you stupid sons of bitches, if I were doing insider trading, I would need to travel and talk with management of many of the companies, whose stock I trade. Or I would at least need to talk with the company executives via telephone. I have not traveled. You bastards are undoubtedly conducting illegal phone taps on my phone and the phones that I use at work. You undoubtedly found that I have not talked with company executives. Why are you here?”
The head anus then tells me (and Janice, who’s sitting in on the discussion) that I am making, “tens of millions of dollars, trading stocks and that’s why they are here.”
At the mention of, “tens of millions of dollars,” Janice goes for the throat!

June 28
R. Richard
Draft2Digital, LLC

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