1:26 p.m. - 2006-01-06
Dave and Walt
So yesterday, I was asked by a client to meet him at his office at 11:37am. He was going to take me to introduce me to another potential client. A restaurant owner. Good deal, right? I arrive at a company we will call Mr. Dudley's Water Purifying Systems. Mr. Dudley frequents this restaurant and wants them to become a member of our organization.
I arrive at 11:36am. Mr. Dudley comes out, and escorts me out to his 29 foot long Lincoln Town Car. He explains that his friend, Dave, will be joining us. Mr. Dudley is wearing a suit. I am wearing dress pants, a collared shirt and sweater. Dave joins us, wearing Carharts and a work shirt with a patch that says "DAVE" in faint red script. The restaurant we are going to is the restaurant of a golf club. No one has mentioned who Dave is or why he is joining us.
We travel to the restaurant, about an 8 minute drive away. We pull into the circular driveway and not a light is on in the building and there is not one car in the parking lot. Mr. Dudley instructs me and Dave to get out and "get us a table."
Ummm.
Mr. Dudley pulls away and drives BEHIND the building, bypassing many open parking spaces, because, remember, the parking lot was EMPTY.
Dave and I approach the building and the door is open. No lights on. No movement or sound. We stand awkwardly inside the doors. Dust is everywhere. Chairs are all upside down on top of the tables. There is a blackboard by the hostess stand that says "Please wait to be seated." I make a nervous joke about how we might be waiting a long time. Dave grunts. "Hmph."
Mr. Dudley has been gone 3-4 minutes.
I pretend to look at the paintings on the wall but actually open the knife on my Miss-A-Kit which is a really girlie, pink pocket knife that Kevin gave me for Christmas. But it does have a sharp little blade right between the mirror and the perfume bottle. Too bad I didn't have the 7 inch serrated killing machine that my dad gave me to "keep in your car just in case" and which I once asked a policeman about and he informed me it was considered a "leathal weapon" that I may not "conceal in your car." I silently recite "Eyes, Throat, Groin, Knees" which of course are the vulnerable body parts of scary men named Dave.
After a little while, Mr. Dudley enters and gives a little chuckle about how "they might be closed this month."
A maintenaince man comes out of the bathroom. Mr. Dudley inquires, as we all sort of follow him out the door, about the location of a person named Walt. Maintainence Man points to a car coming up the drive. Here comes Walt now. How convenient.
Walt gets out and Mr. Dudley makes introductions. It is freezing and raining outside. the introductions go on forever. I am getting wet and am very cold. Mr. Dudley is not wearing a coat and does not appear to be affected by the freezing raindrops. Eventually, he asks Walt if he could "Talk to Jessi for a few minutes."
He agrees. We go inside. Mr. Dudley then says "Well, I'm just going to run Dave down the hill to my building and pick a few things up. I'll be back for you in a while Jessi."
What?!?! Wait!!! No!
But this could be a good client. And I do have my Miss-A-Kit's blade of terror.
Mr. Dudley was gone for 47 minutes. I had to make small talk for about 41 of those minutes. It really doesn't take very long to explain our organization. He didn't have a lot of questions. So I asked question after question after question. At one point, I asked if he knew who first came up with the idea of "wraps" as a sandwich alternative. I mean, we were really getting to the bottom of the barrel here. How much time can you chat with a man named Walt whom you've never met before and who obviously feels bad that your associate just dumped you in this deserted "restaurant" with him for 47 clock-ticking minutes?
When Mr. Dudley returned only very slightly apologetically, he explained his delay. "Phone call."
OK, fine. We wave goodbye to Walt who may or may not join our organization. We slide into the Lincoln Town Car. We drive down the hill. Mr. Dudley announces we will now be going to lunch. Now, it's really nice of him to take me to lunch. But I was really totally maxed on on making small talk with men over the age of 60. We arrive at a diner. There is a 20 minute wait. Mr. Dudley smiles broadly and says "Sometimes it's 30."
19 minutes later we have a table and some water in front of us. The next 51 minutes are spent in increasingly desperate conversation topics. "How Bout Them Steelers" only goes so far with non-sports fans. I arrived back at my office over 3.5 hours after I had originally left.
This day made me very very tired.
