Jews for Jiha...I mean...

CEO #1. Can't say I know a whole heckuva lot about the dude because he is never in the office. He is meant to be sailing the marketing seas, reeling in the prospective client catch of the day, luring them in with the quality bait my marketing team so laboriously concocted.

BUT...long before my days, I presume, his "desire to work" ship had sailed.

"Well, matey?" He thought to himself, as he bathed in my severance package, "I might as well move half way across the world...set up shop...tell the blokes back in the states that there's just as much money in events as there is in oil out here in Abu Dhabi...and I can just kick back and relax without anyone questioning! SHAM WOW! Buuuut...I don't much care for Abu Dhabi...that place is too nouveau riche. I need to be among the old money, among my Upper West side Jew...I mean Muslims. So...I'm going to live in Dubai. In a penthouse loft. An hour plus away from our pretend offices. Yeeeeaaaahhhhhh...thaaaaaat's the ticket!"

So...here we are. New York Jew in the Middle East. ...aaaaaand cue the theme music. I'm thinking Fiddler on the Roof getting coughed out of an Oud. (I'm sure J Lo has some cameo as well).

Prooooobably don't have to tell you how this ends, but, for sh*ts and giggles: late nights and weekends in the office for me. "Ah, shucks, maybe next time..." said CEO#1.

What a LOAD of SH*T!