I Have Arrived

Thinking back to when I was in my mid- twenties and living in Manhattan there were times when I thought I was IT. After all, I was the only one of my sisters to graduate college and, at 24, I was the first to hit that ripe old age without being married or having a child(ren). I was a free agent. Could do my own thing.

Having come from two parents who only finished tenth grade, having a college education was quite an accomplishment. Mom and Dad had tough times growing up. After the coal mines closed up in the Wilkes-Barre, PA region, my paternal grandfather and the older boys, my dad being among them, went to Newark, NJ to learn the trade of butchering. They sent the money home to Grandma and the younger siblings.

When my dad was seventeen his father died of Black Lung and the older boys had the task of caring for the family. Eventually everyone was moved to Jersey and proceeded with their lives. Mom’s mom died when Mom was only seven and Grandpa enlisted the aid of his then sitxty-one-year-old stern, grumpy mother to help in raising his four children. The youngest of which was only two-years-old. Shall we just say that Grandma wasn’t well- suited for the task. No wonder Mom quit school to work to be able to get out of that house. She married my Dad when she was only seventeen.

So, there I was, living in New York City, working in the financial district, having gotten a trainee position at an international insurance company and thinking “Wow, kid, you done good”. I worked for one of the domestic companies of this mega corporation and had a fabulous, very patient supervisor named Don. A tall lanky guy from Brooklyn who had a voice like Ray Romano, Don was an excellent teacher and soon I was ready for the big league.

With my position as an underwriter came an expense account for entertaining brokers in the hopes of “writing” some of their business. Don felt it was time for me to set up my first business lunch and he would accompany me. I gave careful consideration to what I would wear to that luncheon. Being mid -summer, I didn’t want to be hot in a suit so I decided on a floral Diane von Furstenberg wrap dress that looked great on me. I completed my outfit with stylish navy blue sandals and matching leather designer purse which contained a fancy, schmancy silver business card carrying case.  Surely that would show him I was the real deal.  I looked the part of an up and coming superstar in the business world. I was IT.

It was all about me.

I had arrived.

We went to our business client’s building, picked him up, and proceeded to walk to a nearby restaurant on Wall Street. It was a beautifully bright and sunny day, and everyone was out and about. As it was my first business lunch and we were at a fancy restaurant I decided to splurge and try something that I don’t normally eat, like fish. After all, I wasn’t paying for it. As was the custom back in the 80’s drinks were ordered. Being the big deal that I was I thought I’d have a big boy drink and asked for Johnnie Walker Black with water on the rocks*. How sophisticated was I. During our meal, we had a second round. There I was “talking the talk”, acting like I knew what I was talking about and expounding on the virtues of doing business with us.

After we finished our main course, I excused myself to go to the ladies’ room. Came back and we had dessert and coffee. Time to go back to work. What I never got used to the years I worked downtown and entertained clients was being slightly snockered, going out into the bright daylight and then having to go back to the office and carry on as if you were a fully functioning, productive human.

No fun at all.

Anyhow, as we were walking this gentleman back to his office, Don let the client and I walk ahead and he ambled behind us. No, not us, but only behind me doing a strange sort of weaving and bobbing movement. I kept turning around to look at him as if to say “What the hell are you doing?”. We arrived outside the brokers building, I whipped out that impressive card case and gave him my business card and urged him to give us a try with his next piece of business. How professional I felt. I’d done it. I pulled off my first business lunch. When he turned to go into his building, Don said “Don’t move”.

With that he bent down and yanked the stream of toilet paper I had  dragged through the restaurant, down Wall Street and several other crowded streets.

Thoughts crossed my mind. How many people on the streets had seen me? Did the broker notice my new-found streamer? When would my boss let me back out on a business lunch again?  Was anything stuck on the bottom of my shoe?  Yeah, I had arrived, alright, but to where and in what condition? The moral of the story is to never take yourself too seriously. I haven’t since that day.  My advice, which I follow, is to always look behind you before you leave the bathroom.

*Editor’s Note: We here at Conflict and Scotch do not condone adding ice or water to 12-year-old scotch. We will chalk it up to the innocence of youth…

Photo by Alexander Krivitskiy on Unsplash