A notion, at which you might shudder as it slithers out from under the slimy rock next to your settee, is fairly pre-puberty in its tower block subtlety. It has a mathematical probability approaching certainty that, considering the glut of advisors on this very subject, nobody is telling you anything that might be remotely useful to your acquiring your first million. Or first fiver, for that matter. Otherwise we’d all be rolling in it. Money, that is. You can procure, with no more than garcon-esque twitch of the little finger, enough paper to start Guy Fawkes off. Just so long as none of it looks like a ten pound note.
So, just to clarify.
First: anybody who is willing to advise you free of charge, is going to send you a bill in the next post. Except that you can take money off folks a lot quicker these days with a PayPal account. The free gift offered will not, strange to say, be a brush to paint the red numbers in your current account black. More likely it is a wobbly plastic dinosaur that makes your cornflakes taste of urine. Maybe that’s what they taste like without the wobbly plastic dinosaur, but I’ve never had a box without one so it’s hard to tell.
A simple litmus test is all we need to prove the aforementioned pecuniary point. First of all you need to locate a barrister, solicitor or some other member of that august body. You can tell an august body member by its shape; they’re the ones that drop their leaves (and anything else that may give a career leg up) at the merest mention of an annuity. You may need to nip back to the rock next to your settee to pinpoint one of these members geographically, however.
“How does this test go, then?” you might wonder. It is very, very simple. The whole profession is very, very simple so that should come as no surprise. If you really want to join it you need no more than extraordinary memory for things that didn’t matter four hundred years ago. And a completely vacuous brain for anything that might, even from a vast distance, seem like it might make sense. Back to the test.
Our barrister, we will conjecture, is progressing along the street towards us. They don’t walk. This one has just emerged from a litigation meeting and is swinging from the bells of Notre Dame but without the bells. This is because they are paid by the second in gold bullion and insist on it in cash. Or if it looks like a scorpion poised to stick something nasty in you, this one is very, very important and just can’t quite get its nose far enough away from its arse. Back to the test. You ask it the time. The answer will be
This will be announced without reference to any form of timepiece, but will certainly be accompanied by vigorous scratching’s on a triplicate pad. The following morning, a buff-coloured watermarked manila envelope will fall on your doormat. This will contain a bill for £746.73 and a statement of the time “3.24 pm.”
Now that’s How to Make a Lot of Money Very Quick.