It’s March of 2001. I’m in a Midtown Manhattan office on my “bat phone” convincing an unsuspecting recruiter that I’m a 40-year-old Java programming expert, while in fact, I’m actually an 18-year-old kid who had posted a fake “perfect” resume on Monster.com as bait. You see, I was also a recruiter and instead of working hard to find companies that were looking to fill a job, I was trying to fleece my fellow recruiters of that intel and then swoop in myself. It worked like a charm. This was my eighth month on the job. I had observed by then that results were the only thing that mattered. Ethics weren’t on the radar. For my ingenuity, I was taken to dinner by my Team Leader and the CEO, given a raise in my commission payout and put in charge of what we would come to call the “Black Ops” department. What a town.