August 7, 1993
Saturday
Couldn’t sleep at home, couldn’t sit still, couldn’t stand watching TV. Drove to the office by ten and froze at the sight of Zhorik. He never showed up before noon, weekday or, God forbid, weekend.
Looked like something extraordinary had happened.
Zhora was fussing with sheets pouring out of the printer. On workdays, what came out of there were «Trust Management Transfer Agreements.»
I said hi to Zhorik, took a printed sheet, ran my eyes over it, reread it, choked… I was holding a notice announcing the fund’s unprecedented success and an early dividend payout — five dollars a share.
– What?!
– A friend has bought in. Lev Moiseyevich, a man of great intelligence. Emigrated to Israel five years ago, wants to come back. Says he has the money but no premises. Promises to bring in sewing machines and set up production of French prêt-à-porter. Hooked him up with Vera, they’ll be sewing «Versace» jeans... or «Calvin Klein» underwear... I don’t remember which pays off better. Yesterday I drank with the director of the Khryakino plant at the Metropol, we’ll continue tomorrow at his dacha. We’ll hash out the details, rebuild the workshops for Vera. The profit will be fucking enormous. Your task: from Monday, whip up the frenzy, – Zhorik reported, and added: – Pay attention to the postscript.
The fine print said dividends would be paid out from the ninth through the eleventh of August. Gold-share holders — those who’d invested more than nineteen vouchers or their cash equivalent — would be served first.
– Nothing ventured, nothing gained! That’s the whole essence of the investment business, – Zhora explained.
What investments, what gains? And anyway, how can you pay dividends on a factory that hasn’t even been bought? Zhorik shoved a paper with calculations at me:
– Ah, you sweet summer child. Look, we’ve got five hundred shareholders. Average of four shares per shareholder. We pay out twenty bucks to each. That’s ten thousand total.
– So?
– At the same time we whip up a frenzy and a crush at the cashier’s window. Only people who turn in twenty vouchers get paid. How many vouchers do you think we’ll collect afterward?
– I don’t know, maybe a thousand.
– I’m thinking three times that, at least. Either way, the vouchers will come out cheaper than five dollars apiece. We pay the dividends and still have pocket change left over.
– I doubt it.
Zhorik drew a breath, ready to unpack some economic-psychological theory, looked at me… exhaled, settled comfortably into the couch:
– Draw up a resolution introducing three types of shares in the voucher fund — gold, silver, and bronze. Gold shares go to shareholders who’ve put in twenty vouchers or two hundred dollars. Silver — ten vouchers or a hundred dollars. Bronze — five and fifty. Gold-share dividends monthly, silver — once a quarter, bronze — once every six months. Other shareholders get paid once a year. Or on special occasions, like now, but they’re served last. Clear?
