“Paul honey, how can I buy the new Gucci collection on my meager $130 gran a year? I mean, I’m almost starving, like those poor whatever we try to save with our little cottage bank. I don’t know if I will be able to make ends meet of my apartment in NY, the trip to Paris, and then there is that pretty little island off the coast of Greece I’ve been dreaming about, it comes with a yacht, remember?”

“Don’t worry, tomorrow morning I’ll send a memo to take care of this horrible salary injustice you face, you courageous, hard-working… what is it again you do at the bank?”

“Paul honey, did I understand correctly? You are going to increase my salary, just because I’m… uh… opening my legs to you? No! The horror of it! No, you can’t do this to me, give me all this money for being a cheap, parasitical World Bank communications adviser! No! I want to take that money and adopt some orphans to match the color of my new purse! (Madonna is my spiritual guide, my beacon, my light! I protest! ) What!? And, on top of it, you are going to increase the salary every year? And no one at the ethics committee will ask questions?

When do I get my first upgraded check?”

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