Bassim
VIP Member
- Joined
- Mar 1, 2008
- Member Type
- Student or Learner
- Native Language
- Bosnian
- Home Country
- Bosnia Herzegovina
- Current Location
- Sweden
Would you please correct the mistakes in my text?
Andy owned a couple of restaurants and nightclubs, and was a local celebrity. At weekends, a queue at the entrance of one of his nightclubs was the largest in town-- it was the place to be. He lived the high life, drove expensive Italian sports cars, went hunting with a helicopter, sailed in his yacht, and piloted his plane. People knew that large part of this money was earned thanks to Andy's skills in avoiding paying taxes, but although his business was checked by the authorities as anyone else's, he was never accused of anything illegal. Sometimes, he would tell his staff laughingly, "People who should prosecute me come to my restaurant, eat excellent food, leave satisfied and come again. That is what I call first-class service!"
Andy liked to have fun and good jokes, but occasionally, if someone made him angry in a discussion, he didn't hesitate to pull out his Beretta 7.65 and aim it at his interlocutor to make his position clear. The future looked bright, and he had everything to live for, but the cruel fate struck as he was flying in his Cessna, and he crushed to the ground never to raise again.
After his death, rumours spread that his family had taken bags of money out of his nightclub. They started by the staff who allegedly saw the whole operation. Some other people took over his business, but they all failed. One after another, different restaurateurs took up the challenge, but after a few months, they had to give up and admit that only Andy had real managerial skills to run the business.
His name and fame slowly faded, but even ten years after his death if you sat beside the people who worked in the restaurant business, someone would inevitably mention his name and say, "You know that Andy, he was so special. I remember when I worked for him, and one Saturday evening he told us not to put the money in the cash register but in the bin bag under the desk..."
Andy owned a couple of restaurants and nightclubs, and was a local celebrity. At weekends, a queue at the entrance of one of his nightclubs was the largest in town-- it was the place to be. He lived the high life, drove expensive Italian sports cars, went hunting with a helicopter, sailed in his yacht, and piloted his plane. People knew that large part of this money was earned thanks to Andy's skills in avoiding paying taxes, but although his business was checked by the authorities as anyone else's, he was never accused of anything illegal. Sometimes, he would tell his staff laughingly, "People who should prosecute me come to my restaurant, eat excellent food, leave satisfied and come again. That is what I call first-class service!"
Andy liked to have fun and good jokes, but occasionally, if someone made him angry in a discussion, he didn't hesitate to pull out his Beretta 7.65 and aim it at his interlocutor to make his position clear. The future looked bright, and he had everything to live for, but the cruel fate struck as he was flying in his Cessna, and he crushed to the ground never to raise again.
After his death, rumours spread that his family had taken bags of money out of his nightclub. They started by the staff who allegedly saw the whole operation. Some other people took over his business, but they all failed. One after another, different restaurateurs took up the challenge, but after a few months, they had to give up and admit that only Andy had real managerial skills to run the business.
His name and fame slowly faded, but even ten years after his death if you sat beside the people who worked in the restaurant business, someone would inevitably mention his name and say, "You know that Andy, he was so special. I remember when I worked for him, and one Saturday evening he told us not to put the money in the cash register but in the bin bag under the desk..."
