16.
“The Inheritance of a South Beach Playboy”
Once upon a time, I found myself in the intriguing world of finance, navigating the whims of a 20-something client who’d just inherited about $150k from his grandmother. Now, don’t get me wrong—grandma’s money can lead to great things. Or, at least, great parties. I immediately clutched my pearls, expecting this young gentleman, whom I shall affectionately refer to as “Chad,” to turn those hard-earned bucks into a pile of expensive cocktail napkins faster than you can say “Bitcoin boondoggle.”
And lo and behold, the first thing that spilled from Chad’s lips was how he needed the funds for a shiny new business venture with his equally sensible partner-in-crime. Thoughts of lavish beachfront bashes coursed through my mind. Chad, living the dream in South Beach, with a vocabulary that primarily consists of the word “bro,” surely had plans to harness the power of… whatever he thought he was about to invest in.
In my infinite wisdom—or perhaps, just with a healthy dose of stereotyping—I mentally assigned him to the “money-blowing” category. You know, the folks who see cash like a burrito: delicious and ephemeral. I figured that by this time next year, he’d be pancaked in debt and wondering why everyone wasn’t still dinner-partying on his inheritance.
But no! In a shocking turn of events that would make any financial planner drop their kale smoothie, Chad practically elbowed his way into my office, pleading to keep his account open. “I swear, I’m putting this money back!” he declared as if he were auditioning for a role in a drama about fiscal responsibility. I obliged, because what’s life without a little intrigue, right?
Months rolled by like a sluggish golf cart on a sun-drenched course, and I received an alert: a wire transfer of—wait for it—$150k. What a twist! There I was, gratefully surprised, thinking that perhaps Chad had become a financial sage in all of two months. Just as I began to daydream about speaking at wealth management seminars, another alert popped up. $250k. And then another. And yet another $250k! Is this guy running a secret hedge fund while I’m not looking?
In our business, regulations dictate that we must discuss these funds—where they’re coming from, how they’re being deposited, etc. You know, just all those pesky details that keep the IRS on their toes. So, being the trusty planner I am, I picked up the phone to call Chad. “Hey, buddy! So, about that money… Where in the world are all these dollars driving in from? Are you smuggling in gold bars from the Bahamas or just laundering beach towels?”
In the end, this fab 20-something turned the stereotype on its head, proving that maybe some young folks don’t just sit on their inheritances while sipping frosty drinks. Or maybe Chad’s life plan just involved several anonymous benefactors with excellent taste in timing. Either way, I certainly wasn’t ready for the plot twist, and my heart still races at the thought of his financial escapades. Perhaps one day I’ll write a book: “How to Make Money While Maintaining Your Party Animal Status.” You’ll certainly want to put that one on your bookshelf—right next to your collection of ironic mugs!
