Meeting with Someone

Wednesday morning I was mugged. Yep . . . mugged. Not literally, but figuratively. I met a person, a consultant, who was from another city for breakfast. He started to interviewing me, basically sizing me up. This happens often in business - but usually done with some class - very indirectly and the person who asks - actually listens.

This guy . . . well he had his answers shaped in his head as to what he wanted. And he wanted the answer right away. He asked, "What is a 'professional'?"

"Er, what?!" I wanted to ask.

My old days I would have danced. I would have asked him a question or two, to see what he was thinking and where he was going. Now-a-days, I don't give a flip (substitute your word here - "flip" is the word I choose to stay G Rated this morning.)

I did sit there in the midst a staccato burst of questions, wondering "How in the world did I get involved with this guy? And thank God that the other people in the company he is representing is not like him - or so I hope - at least not over the phone they aren't.

He was sizing me up and then gave me advice at the end. Part of me - the old me - wanted to take my debating skills, sharpen up the tongue, and slice his points one by one, to demonstrate his not only pedantic questions were not in touch with reality of the business he was presenting, but that his knowledge and acumen and style of the business work works only if he is part of the Mafia.

Anyway, while I did feel anger come up, I managed it. Although I will tell you, there was a place where my disease wanted to tell him to cram it up his you know where. I would have felt great delight in saying that. But, why? It would have felt great for . . . 10 minutes? 5?

Then the regret. The guilt. I would have felt bad afterwards.

I wanted revenge, that's true. I don't liked being judged. I don't like when someone is trying to demonstrate they are smarter than I am, especially, oh, and this is the good one, especially because they don't know what I've been through to get to where I am.

Now, isn't that last sentence revealing? Is that the "victim" thing I hear about in Al-Anon popping up?

Yes. Been through a lot. So has everyone else.

My job: Not to allow anyone to destroy, tip over, upset - MY SERENITY.

My sponsor says: If you have a chose, choose the path or the option that leads you to serenity.

Not his exact quote - but it is basically what he says. He doesn't use the word "path," that's mine. I wanted to sound "poetic" - another defect - not that poetry is bad - but that I am wanting to show that I am - well smart or worse - smarter than I am!

Ha! Today is going to be an excellent day.

PS - I am traveling. Staying at the Swissotel. Nice place. Bought chocolate baseballs for my daughter last night. They are the little round chocolates wrapped in baseball looking foil. Well, on the way to the restaurant I found the store that sold them. So, while in the restaurant, at the bar waiting for a table, I set the bag on this counter, on the wall. And you can guess where this may be going . . . the bag fell. And the baseballs fell out and rolled all around the bar. People laughed. I was - embarrassed - BUT - at the price of those chocolates, guess who was on the floor picking up baseballs?