Success, Opulence and Power, Hebru Young [inspirational novels .txt] 📗

Puerto Plata was not an easy feat. The food inspectors, the tax officers, and the port authority regularly visited restaurants in the surrounding area for food inspection, auditing of financial records, and validation of licenses. Restaurant owners who supplied their own fish had to pay a seafood distribution license validation fee on a regular basis. This was the most expensive fee for a self-supplying seafood restaurant, since validation checks were carried out monthly.

The inspectors and officers were only after one thing: bribes. The license fees would be waived once the supplier or restaurant owner paid the bribe. These bribes were paid in cash, and the cash went straight into the officers’ pockets. Once the bribes had been paid, the licenses would be endorsed with a cheap rubber stamp. Guillermo knew that by feeding his port officer friend on the house, he would never have to worry about the validation fees. It was also less expensive than constantly having to pay the bribes.

As far as Guillermo was concerned, this wasn’t a friendship. He didn’t enjoy the officer’s company, he saw the whole thing as a business arrangement. The officer, on the other hand, was an opportunist who enjoyed the free food and occasional booze. He was fully aware that Guillermo equally benefited from their arrangement. The officer knew that Guillermo would be able to avoid paying the bribes by simply dropping the officer’s name when other port officials showed up. In fact, most officers were aware of the arrangement, so they didn’t bother doing the checks at Guillermo’s place. This was standard practice in the region. All the officers frequented the shops, butcheries, and markets for regular checks. Establishments that had desirable commodities would offer these instead of the bribes, if the officers felt that it was a suitable option.

The waiter finally walked over with tray in hand, and Guillermo shouted at him. “What took so long, can you not see that my good friend is hungry, yet you keep him waiting?” The restaurant employees knew that Guillermo was only putting on a show for the officer, so they didn’t take it personal.

“Why don’t you join me?” The officer invited Guillermo to partake in the meal; this was customary in the region.

Guillermo replied, “I’m okay, thank you. I already had some food, all I need now is my El Toro and my cashews.” While the men ate and drank the officer talked about his job and all the pressures that came with it, and Guillermo listened attentively. People that frequented the restaurant always had something to talk about. Sometimes the information that he gained from conversations was useful and other times, not so much. Guillermo’s mindset was to use vital information for personal gain but disregard anything that was unimportant.

By the time the officer had finished his shrimp and rice pottage, Guillermo could tell that he was ready for another Cerveza, so he beckoned the waiter over by signalling with a drinking gesture. The officer was in more of a talking mood than usual on that day, and he started talking about his plans for the future.

“Guillermo, one isn’t getting younger, and time waits for no one. This job of mine pays, but it doesn’t pay enough, if you know what I mean.” Guillermo acknowledged this with a nod.

The waiter arrived again with tray in hand and set the Cerveza in front of the officer. The officer took a gulp, put the bottle down, and continued. “You see my friend, given my age, at this point in my career I can only be promoted one, maybe two more times, and even at that point I still won’t become a senior officer. By the time I retire I won’t have enough money to provide a decent future for my children. You see, in the port authority, only the senior officers make the big money.”

Again, being an attentive listener, Guillermo merely responded with a nod. The officer paused and took another gulp from the cold bottle that had formed some condensation due to the hot Dominican weather. The officer put the drink back down and glanced through the restaurant window. With the view from the restaurant, he could see the sun was about to set and people were relaxing and having a good time. There was music playing, people sat on benches drinking, chatting, and singing. This was what the atmosphere was like every evening in that part of Puerto Plata.

It had become apparent that the conversation was about to get serious as the officer turned his head back towards Guillermo. He took another gulp from the almost empty bottle. “My friend,” the officer leaned forward and said in a low voice, almost whispering, “I need to make moves; I am moving to America.”

Guillermo leaned forward and mimicked the officer’s tone, “For people like you and me, it is impossible to get visas to America.”

The officer stared at Guillermo with a mischievous look on his face, as though he knew the world’s biggest secret, and no one else knew about it. He sipped what was left of the Cerveza, and Guillermo signalled the waiter to bring over another bottle.

The officer pretended to protest, “Guillermo, this is too much. The food, the drinks, please allow me to give you some money for this.”

Guillermo insisted, “For you, it’s on the house—your money is no good here.”

Just as the waiter arrived with the third bottle of Cerveza, the officer continued the conversation. “In my line of work, we meet all kinds of people: some good, some bad, some useful, some useless. I met a useful person a while back, and this person will be key in helping me make my moves.” The officer told Guillermo about a special cargo ship that often docked at the port. This ship’s main purpose was to transport goods to and from Miami. The officer’s whisper got even quieter as he explained how the ship