Chapter 10: The Operation

The club’s recently trademarked name is Brethren of the Coast, as I already mentioned, I think.

Our operation style and top management is, I suspect unique. No exact parallel exists, not to my knowledge. The managerial company is an independent corporation and pays us, we don’t pay them. They pay for a concession to run the club, contracting to operate according to our guidelines and dictates, and we reserve power to terminate the contract at anytime for any reason. For example, deviating from the guidelines is sufficient cause to dismiss their concession.

They are responsible for maintaining the facility and making it profitable for themselves, and we are invulnerable to theft and skimming by their management personnel. We are immune from legal liability and the need for insurance, though we carry insurance anyway. It’s relatively inexpensive insurance because of our limited exposure, protected by the frontline screen of the management company. Demands for executive salary increases and bonuses are also avoided. In addition, we have the exclusive authority to sell the memberships, and issue the encrypted cards. We have a guaranteed income, to just sit back, monitor, and rake in the monthly rent from the apartments, offices, restaurant concessions, bar concessions, and the big monthly club concession payment. All profit. No headaches, or very few, if any. What a sweet deal. We hope to repeat the formula over a long chain of clubs we plan to establish in many ports.

More good news. Clarissa is pregnant with our first child. How could I be happier? One thing would spray whipped cream topping on my pie. If the USA was restored to a functioning republic, without socialists and communists fouling the air with their ungodly stench, that would please me. The age old problem still exists. Once someone gains power, they aren’t going to voluntarily relinquish it. The Generals and Admirals are ruling the USA now. Don’t see them restoring civilian authority under the Constitution or a different Constitution anytime in the foreseeable future. Still, it’s better than living in a totalitarian communist run country. Glad I’m out of it. South America governments are mostly run by corrupt officials, but the countries are definitely predominantly entrepreneurial cultures.

Skip ahead a few years.

My wife Clarissa and I aren’t happily married but we have an endurable understanding painfully negotiated. Our oldest daughter, Melissa, is recently turned three years old, our second daughter, Teressa, is almost two, and Clarissa is currently heavy with her third pregnancy. She is due in another month. A son this time, please? I adore my little girls but hanker for a son. I know the kids are mine, I had the DNA paternity tests verify I’m their father. I will again when this new baby is born. Clarissa is the mother of my children, and that is the true extent of our relationship. There is no love shared between us. Not now. Clarissa is in love with her brother Duerte.

After the baby is born and Clarissa is healed up, I’ll move back in with her for a short while. Just long enough to impregnate her again. That’s the deal. Once Clarissa is positive she’s pregnant again, I’ll move out and Duerte moves back in. Just as I early feared, the brother and sister became incestuous lovers. It’s a fact, not suspicion.