There is a man that I carefully avoid: my banker. Or rather, I love having the phone, he has a young voice, hot, sexy ... Certainly not a banker. I therefore avoids the caregiver meet for fear of discovering a yuppie encased in a suit by cut, or worse, a banker who would graying and paunchy that sexy voice.
Pretender: The banker
Objectively, it is ... the railing of your wildest spending, the manager of your life, who decides the size of your future apartment.
is the ideal man because ... of a sudden one, you could finally get the loan that you have dreamed to buy the convertible sublime makes you the eye of the window of dealer near the office. Or to finally spend a sabbatical year in Bali. Or to chuck everything and live life in a castle nonetheless. Put your hands on a used bank not forget to check how his superiors have confidence in him.
Yes, but ... we always end up snapping a minimum wage (or even a half) in a handbag (or shoes) (or even rain boots for the least urban of us). You end up hiding it (even temporarily) to the man with whom you wake up each morning (or almost). It's a bit more complicated if this man is one who manages your accounts, and the ELP you bought waders red sole.
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