MexicanFishermanMaxxing

You NEED to be doing this

sombrero, poncho, maracas. all you need to fish

There was once a Powerful American Executive who was visiting Mexico for work (to hollow, extract, exploit, etc). He was running on the beach one evening, looking at his Apple Watch, when he accidentally bumped into a Mexican Fisherman who was lounging and lollygagging aimlessly whilst hawking his meager wares. Drawn to the scent and color of the day’s catch, our intrepid protagonist inquired about the fish, and took one home for a private chef to prepare, sashimi style.

The next day, he returned to the fisherman. “That fish was delicious,” he said. “You’re talented. How do you catch it?”

“I pay attention to the water and weather,” said the fisherman. “Every afternoon, I go out for two hours on my small boat and I catch a few fish. Then I sell them at the market.”

“And what do you do then,” the executive asked, ever curious.

“I go home and take a siesta, spend time with my wife and children, then I sip wine and play guitar with my amigos in town.”

“And then?” prompted the executive.

“Well, then I go back to my house, get thotted the fuck up, snort some coke, and hit the mothafuckin’ club. I like to start the night at Perceptions, because the bitches there are tasty as fuck that time of night. Normally I’ll end up scoring some stanky choach to bring along to Evermore at around 2 am, when the ludes hit. Shit always gets kinda freaky after that. On a good night, if I’m lucky, I’ll find myself at Generations around 5:30 when the sun comes up. That’s when I know it’s time to re-up on the cocaína before I hit McDonalds for three Big Macs, a hash brown, and a McFlurry, like clockwork. Once I’ve taken the biggest shit of my life, I head over to my boy Pablo’s place. He has an Xbox One so we always smoke a fuck ton of weed and play Fortnite with 15 year olds. Sometimes it’s girls which is awesome, but most of the time it’s boys who we think is girls because their voice hasn’t changed yet, which honestly is basically the same. We piss them the hell off and will normally dox or swat one or two of them every couple days, which is really fun. Then I stumble down to the casino where it’s only tired American grandparents at 10 am and I play slots and lose my wife’s money (she’s a teacher) for two hours while drinking artificial banana flavored rum. It’s about then that I’m feeling sort of ornery and thirsty so I head over to the local Jamba Juice and lie that there was a finger in my juice. At this point they know me as the guy that does that, which is sick for my life. Sometimes they give me a juice if I yell loud enough. On the walk home I like to piss all over the sidewalk in broad daylight, then I scroll through TikTok and make memes for a couple of hours with captions like ‘that one bro in the questing party whose parents are their final boss’ and ‘bro dealing with existential doubt 😭’ before heading to my stupid day job.

“Well, all of that’s a waste of time!” cried the executive. “Don’t you see? If you worked a few more hours, you could save more money. With that money, you could buy a second boat, which would make you more money.”

“And then what should I do?” asked the Mexican Fisherman, a serene smile on his face.

“Well, then you could buy a fleet of boats! And once you’d proven your ideas, you could request a capital injection by way of Sand Hill road and its class of hoodie-clad but iron-willed VCs!”

“Go on,” said the Mexican Fisherman, amused.

“Well, then you could scrabble about for product market fit, knowing secretly that your success at fundraising has already provided you a safety net of being able to consult or grift your way through multiple businesses, resulting in what is essentially the professionalization of a certain class of people who are entrepreneurs on paper but materially just well-compensated employees distributed across venture capital firms.”

“How long will all this take?” asked the Mexican Fisherman.

“Oh, about 20 years. Once you’re old enough, you can start feeling nervous about your lack of cultural relevance and want to compensate for your lost youth by playacting as an authentic party animal, or someone who actually can have fun,” said the executive.

“And what do you do about it?”

“Oh, that’s the best part. Well, you start by going home, getting thotted the fuck up, and then snorting some coke and hitting the mothafuckin’ club. Then you score some stanky choach, get fucked on ludes, do coke again, hit McDonalds (probably MxDonalds by that far in the future, am I right?) for three Big Macs, a hash brown, and a McFlurry, and then play Fortnite on Pablo’s Xbox One until you dox and/or swat a 15 year old. Then you hit the casino and play slots while drinking banana rum, lie that there’s a finger in your Jamba Juice, and make memes for a few hours before going to go fish.”

“Oh damn,” said the Mexican fisherman, looking serious for the first time. “That actually sounds awesome. Shit. I think you convinced me. I gotta lock the fuck in and actually get my bag.”

“No problem, brother,” said the executive, dapping up the Mexican Fisherman.

Nabeel’s Footnote

The product of a mind that has both read “The Pearl” and spent too much time working at VC-backed startups…God bless….