The greasy pole. A merciless, unforgiving beast, isn’t it? Each rung slick with desperation, every ascent a gauntlet of grit and guile. Some folks parade up it with their noses held high. I prefer to call that naïveté. You claw your way up, bruised and battered, barely leaving room for someone like you to climb alongside—or step over—you.
For me, that someone was...
English
Arabic
French
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek