On knowing your place

๐Ÿ’Ž On knowing your place (Do you know who I am?)

Itโ€™s an American agency called Wundermann.

Apparently, one day the owner flew in to visit his agency.

He was a big, brash New Yorker.

He drove straight into the car park below the building.

The gruff cockney parking attendant stopped him.

He said, โ€˜Where you going, guv?โ€™

The American was indignant.

He said, โ€˜I’m parking, of course.โ€™

The parking attendant said, โ€˜You gotta permit?โ€™

The American said, โ€˜No.โ€™

The parking attendant said, โ€˜Then you ainโ€™t parking here.โ€™

The American was outraged.

He said, โ€˜Do you know who I am?’

The parking attendant shook his head and said, โ€˜No.โ€™

The American got out of the car, raised himself up to his full height, tapped his chest and said, ‘Iโ€™m Wundermann.โ€™

The parking attendant said, โ€˜I don’t care if you’re fucking Superman. You ainโ€™t parking hereโ€™

Excerpt from: Predatory Thinking: A Masterclass in Out-Thinking the Competition by Dave Trott

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