The end of naivety

Or, "How not to deal with douches." (Anyone notice that word is coming up a lot lately? It is in my world. Everyone's a "total douche" these days. "See the new guy with his gigantic mirror-ey Ray-Bans? What a total douche." I can't explain it, but I appreciate the brief amusement.)

Anyway...

So, Mortgage Guy, (henceforth MG) finally got his act together and stuck with a time to meet. MG, you may recall was first referred to me by the Realtor who declined to list our place. (Not enough margin for us anyway). MG assessed our situation, figured out that we weren't going to make him any money that way, dropped off the radar, and then came back with a business proposition. The Return of MG happened about a month ago. Since then he's bailed on our dinner meetings twice, and finally, last night, he showed up half an hour late.

There were several signs right from the get-go that there's something hinky about this situation. And I'd like to state for the record that last night's business meeting was my last foray into unconventional business practices, for lack of a better term. I've never pursued anything illegal or even unethical, but I have spent some time among the amateurs, the gurus, and the "systems." I'm so done with that. Last night was the final straw, and here's why:

It took him almost three hours to get to his damn point!

He had this idea, see. It's all about The Niche. (If he'd pronounced it "neesh" I'm sure I would have blacked out with rage.) And his niche was AWESOME, if he did say so himself. He just had to give us oodles of background "because you're probably not aware of this kind of business."

No, MG, we can't possibly comprehend the ancient esoteric art of..."marketing."

We'd sat down to dinner at about 6:30. He didn't get to his point until 9:00. He was very charming, animated, passionate. But it wasn't until 9:00 that he finally got around to explaining what he thought we might be able to do for him. He bobbed, he weaved, he explained, he touched my wife's arm about three too many times. He outlined, he asked for confirmation of our understanding.

MG looked at my wife, muscled jaw grinding molars, eyes fiery. "So that's my idea. Do you understand?"

Grace: "Yeah, sounds great!"

I looked at her, she looked at me. Oh man, she had her game face on. Normally we can say so much just by looking each other in the eyes. But at that moment I was completely shut out. What are you thinking???

"Chris," MG said, "Do you know what I'm talking about?"

"You bet!" Not a f-ing clue. I've been counting ceiling tiles for the last 30 minutes.

Grace: "So what do you need us for?"

***Another half-hour of blather***

Me: "So, to summarize, you need us to write some marketing and training materials. Maybe a book, but certainly some hand-outs."

"YES!!!" MG exclaimed, as though he'd finally gotten Hellen Keller to understand the concept of language.

Meanwhile, while all of this nonsense was going on, our waiter made six or seven passes, pointedly looking at the untouched check on the table. He'd been extremely attentive and I wanted to make sure the guy was tipped well. MG had already said dinner was on him, and it damn well better have been--he'd cancelled on me twice, costing me at least $140 in moving gigs. Otherwise, I'd have picked up that check long ago.

When, finally, this interminable meeting came to a close, it was because Grace got up and started putting her coat on. We followed suit. That's when my suspicions, already dulled by naive optimism, a martini and huge dinner, really flared. MG started walking away from the table without paying.

I guess it's kind of rude to do this, but I picked up the damn check and handed it to MG. "Oh, I didn't pay that?" he said.

This time Grace and I had a whole conversation with our eyes.

I wish that was the end of the weirdness, but no. He ended up walking us to our cars. It was well out of his way, but I was starting to get the distinct impression that the guy didn't want to go home.

Anyway...

I think I finally get it, and it didn't even take any peyote: Everyone's got a pitch, and 99% of people are full of shit.

A side note: Last night I think I had the best steak I've ever had in my life.