I envied the man. Every morning, I would stand behind the wooden counter and watch through the glass window as the man stepped out his luxurious car and into the coffee shop. What was so different form me and him, I wondered. Nothing! His watch always blinded me as he pulled out his wallet and payed for his morning coffee. Walking out, I always wondered what was his secret, or what was the secret.

“Excuse me sir,” I asked one day before he ordered his coffee. At first, he looked at me confused, then fallowed a face of amusement.

“Can I help you?” he asked in his old english tone. Maybe the secret was having an accent I thought at times.

“Whats the secret to success?”

“Clearly good decision, old sport!” he stated firmly. He was ready to demand for his usual morning coffee when I cut him off.

“I’ve never made a mad decision in my life! Anyways, how does someone make good decisions?” I asked.

He looked at me with a smirk on his face, “Experience. Nothing but good old experience.” I was ready to reply rudely with another question when he interrupted. “And how does one get experience.” Not only was he successful, but he can also ready minds I thought. “Bad decisions.”

“Bad decisions,” I said under my breath in disbelief.

“It isn’t a secret old sport, its just hard for some people to accept their own failure. In the end, the real question is are you smart enough to stop looking at others peoples wrong-doings and fortunes and start looking at your own mistakes and start admitting to them.”

Nothing was said until he received his coffee, “Its sad, many live their whole lives knowing the secret to success.”

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