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As I sat back in my chair in MoDo's, sipping a glass of the Red you ordered, I watched you sitting at the head of the table, wondering if you would make a toast like the Godfather.
"I'm a superstitious man, and if some unlucky accident should befall Michael - if he is to be shot in the head by a police officer, or be found hung dead in a jail cell... or if he should be struck by a bolt of lightning - then I'm going to blame some of the people in this room; and then I do not forgive. But with said, I pledge - on the souls of my grandchildren - that I will not be the one to break the peace that we have made today."
I felt a warm comforting glow overcome me. I knew my protector was here. A weary traveler who had come far.
No food for my horses! No drink for my men! But a decent guy that spent more time getting to Toronto, and spending more money on 8..that's right...EIGHT people.
So I ask you readers...does YOUR host company do this? Or yours?
Of course not, because Webair has a job to do, and it's called taking...care...of...their...customers!
Gerard. It wasn't the feast that you put out! It wasn't the 12 fucking hours that took you to get to Toronto. It was the appreciation for the business that we entrust to WebAir..and for that....?
What else can I say?
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