I've already mentioned in a previous piece that I could tell when we were coming close to the Amway meeting that night by the junk automobiles parked on the street - BMWs and Cadillacs from the 1970s and 1980s, to be precise.
The meetings were held at various locations, depending on which IBO the Platinum determined had earned the right to be in his company. The driveways in many of the newer communities where IBOs were renting are small - they can only accommodate two cars - and if the garage is stuffed with storage items, residents must park on the driveway while visitors and tenants must park on the street. In these communities, there are cars parked on both sides of the roadway on both sides of the street. Who knows if it was because of the number of cars or because we were social butterflies with a lot of visitors, but we had to park more than a street away on occasion. I reside in an older community where the houses are on well sized lots with generously sized driveways and parking spaces. My driveway is one of the smaller ones in the neighbourhood because my house is closer to the street and I have a backyard, whereas the majority of the other properties are set further back from the road and have large front yards, as opposed to mine. My driveway has enough space to accommodate four cars. Rarely does anyone park their cars on our street unless there is a large party taking place someplace, and even then, our boulevards are broad enough that automobiles may be parked off the street without interfering with traffic flow.
The Platinum declined to hold any more meetings at our house because none of our prospects showed up to any of the three sessions we held at our home. Because Ambot didn't always drive his own car, he made a big deal about one parking spot in our driveway being saved for the Platinum sack of shit or whatever was driving him during those three occasions. One time, our pompous prick sponsor was given the final available parking space in our driveway. Ambot requested that he move his car to the side of the road so that the Platinum may park there. That fucker was a complete nutcase! It was like he was screaming his piece of sh*t automobile out of our driveway and onto the street. Afterwards, he stomped back into the house, his eyes fixed on everyone. Ugly ass son of a bitch was clearly upset that he was forced to spend three hours at our place as the sack of sh*t Platinum droned on about another tired scheme.
Every IBO who hosted an Amway meeting made sure that the Platinum or his driver had a place to park their car on their driveway. Even though parking was available on the street, only one IBO would come early enough to secure a parking spot close to the house, and when the Platinum came, the IBO would relocate his car to make room for the Platinum to park nearby.
Our Platinum was frequently late for meetings at 8 p.m. Never more than 20 minutes late, and certainly never more than 30 minutes. One day, Ambot was given the "pleasure" of driving the sack of shit to a meeting, and he came to me and told me what was going on in his head. However, when Ambot arrived at the residence on time, there was no one there to receive the Platinum, so the Platinum instructed Ambot to continue driving. Hunh? Is he in need of a greeter? What exactly does he believe himself to be? What about the King of England? Yes, most definitely! Consequently, Ambot is driving him around the neighbourhood while listening to the sack of shit complain about how no one was ready for him when he finally arrives. Ambot completed three passes in ten minutes and claimed that the Platinum was going to ask him to drive him home when they were surprised by the appearance of someone in the driveway waiting for them.
As a result, the Platinum's diatribe that evening was primarily focused on this subject. Although he didn't want "just anyone" waiting for him when he arrived, he did want at least a thousand pins or higher to be waiting for him when he arrived. Hmm. That would be a little hard to come by in our bunch!
And what if it started raining? An IBO must have been standing outside with a large umbrella, waiting for the Platinum to arrive. I mean, God help him if he gets a little soaked. I'm a little more tenacious. I'm not afraid of the rain!
As far as I can tell? Nothing can stand in the way of Anna Banana, even if platinums melt in the rain.
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