The porter of the brothel

There was no job in that town that was worse seen and paid worse than that of a brothel porter... But what else could that man do? In fact, he had never learned to read or write, he had no other activity or trade. Actually, it was his position because his father had been the bouncer of that brothel before him, and before him, his father's father. For decades, the brothel had been passed from father to son and the concierge too.

One day, the old owner died and a young man with concerns, creative and enterprising, took over the brothel. The young man decided to modernize the business. He modified the rooms and then summoned the staff to give them further instructions. He told the doorman: -From today, you, in addition to being at the door, are going to prepare a weekly report for me. There he will write down the number of couples that enter each day. He will ask one in five how they were treated and what they would correct in the place. And once a week, you will submit that report to me with whatever comments you see fit.

The man trembled. He had never lacked a willingness to work, but…

"I'd love to satisfy you, sir," he stammered, "but I… I can't read or write."

-Oh! I'm so sorry! As you understand, I can't pay someone else to do this and I can't wait for you to learn to write either, so...

-However, sir, you cannot fire me. I've worked on this all my life, just like my father and grandfather...

He didn't let him finish. -Look, I understand it; however, I cannot do anything for you. Logically, we will give you compensation, that is, an amount of money so that you can survive until you find another job. So, I'm sorry. Good luck.

And, without further ado, he turned around and left. The man felt the world was crumbling. He had never thought that he could find himself in that situation. He arrived home, unoccupied for the first time in his life. What could I do? Then he remembered that sometimes, in the brothel, when a bed broke down or a cabinet leg was damaged, he would manage to make a simple temporary fix with a hammer and some nails. He thought this could be a temporary occupation until someone offered him a job. He searched throughout the house for the tools he needed, finding only a few rusty nails and a dull pliers. He had to buy a complete toolbox and for that, he would use a part of the money he had received. At the corner of his house he learned that there was no hardware store in his town, and that he would have to travel two days on a mule to go to the nearest town to buy. "What difference does it make?" he thought. And he started walking.

Upon his return, he carried a beautiful and complete toolbox. He hadn't finished taking off his boots when there was a knock at the door of his house; it was his neighbor.

-I came to ask if you wouldn't have a hammer to lend me.

-Look, yes, I just bought it, but I need it to work. Since I lost my job...

-Okay, but I would return it very early tomorrow.

-Alright.

The next morning, as promised, the neighbor knocked on his door.

-Look, I still need the hammer. why do not you sell it to me?

-No, I need it to work and, besides, the hardware store is two days away by mule.

"Let's make a deal," said the neighbor. -I will pay you for the two days there and the two days back, plus the price of the hammer. Overall, you are out of work. What do you think?

Really, this gave him work for four days... He accepted.

Upon his return, another neighbor was waiting for him at the door of his house.

- Hello, neighbor. Did you sell our friend a hammer?

-Yeah…

-I need some tools. I am willing to pay you for your four days of travel and a small profit for each of them. You know: not all of us have four days to do our shopping.

The ex-janitor opened his toolbox and his neighbor chose a pliers, a screwdriver, a hammer and a chisel. He paid her and left.

-Not all of us have four days to do our shopping…, -he remembered.

If this was true, many people might need him to travel to bring tools. On the next trip he decided that he would risk some of the compensation money by bringing more tools than he had sold. By the way, you could save time on travel.

Word began to spread around the neighborhood and many residents decided to stop traveling to do their shopping. Once a week, the now tool salesman traveled and bought what his customers needed. He soon realized that if he could find a place to store the tools, he could save more trips and earn more money. So he rented a place. Then he enlarged the entrance to the store and a few weeks later added a shop window, so that the premises became the first hardware store in town. Everyone was happy and bought at his store. He no longer had to travel, because the hardware store in the neighboring town sent him his orders: he was a good customer. Over time, all the shoppers in the small towns further away preferred to shop at his hardware store and save two days of travel. One day it occurred to him that his friend, the turner, could make the heads of the hammers for him. And then… why not? Also pincers, tweezers and chisels. Later came the nails and screws... In order not to lengthen the story too much, I will tell you that in ten years that man became a millionaire tool maker, based on honesty and hard work. And he ended up being the most powerful businessman in the region. So powerful was he that, one day, on the occasion of the beginning of the school year, he decided to donate a school to his town. "In addition to reading and writing, the most practical arts and crafts of the time would be taught there," he thought.

The mayor organized a grand opening party for the school and an important tribute dinner for its founder. After dessert, the mayor gave him the keys to the city and hugging him said:

-It is with great pride and gratitude that we ask you to grant us the honor of putting your signature on the first page of the school's honor book.

"The honor would be mine," said the man, "but I can't read or write." I am illiterate.

-You? –said the mayor, who didn't quite believe it- Don't you know how to read or write? Did you build an industrial empire without knowing how to read or write? I am amazed. I wonder what he would have done if he had known how to read and write.

"I can tell you," the man answered calmly. –If I had known how to read and write… I would be the porter of the brothel!