ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact
Following his passion after high school, Jake Mulholland found his journalism degree to be worth less than the paper it was printed on. Coming to terms with the fact that he’d never be Hunter S. Thompson, the 26-year-old Whooton Boys’ School Alumni threw himself into hospitality when he still thought he had time to find himself. He was wrong.
Coming to terms with the fact that he’d never be Hunter S. Thompson, the 26-year-old threw himself into hospitality when he still thought he had time to find himself. He was wrong.
Finally, his father stepped in and tried to set him up selling insurance with a friend of his. Failing that, his next recommendation was to join the defence force.
“If he managed to fuck up everything I got him into, I figured he might have it in him to grease a few foreign investors, or whoever we end up going to war with next,” said father Martin.
“He probably doesn’t – but then I remembered that I’ve got a few mates in real estate who might have him on. It was the last roll of the dice really. Nobody dreams of becoming a real estate agent.”
But boy was Martin wrong.
Jake had plenty of other options.
First up, he decided to spent 18 months and $15,000 worth of his inheritance on building an ice cream topping delivery service. Just like UberEats, but for something no one really feels like having delivered to their door.
Then, when that failed. He decided to sell insurance again. But for a start up.
As was expected, Jake had a falling out with the CEO, who was five years younger then him. It was then, with his back against the wall. The now late-20s youngtrepreneur found his groove.
Jake knew he’d found his calling as soon as he walked through the doors of his local LJ Hooker. His manager asked him during the job interview where he’d like to be in five years time – Jake said he’d be in his seat.
“Here I was thinking I’d have to be a submariner. Now I’m selling houses. Nailed it.”
More to come.
Wasted life He should be an MP. Abbott couldn’t hack it as a priest because he couldn’t keep his dick in his strides then failed a plant manager because he couldn’t add 2 numbers together. Then he failed as a journalist because his sentences didn’t actually make any sense when they were written down so he became a professional politician. This requires the same qualifications as a stand up comedian and gets just as much derision when you’re not funny, or sensible or lying in the gutter staring at the stars thinking you’ve finally died and made it to heaven.