I’d been trying to schedule a meeting with this guy for ages and finally my phone rang. “Hey Doug, it’s Paul. I’ve got a few minutes if you’re up for a coffee, say, 30 minutes from now?”
Having agreed on a local establishment to rendezvous, it was time for the first act of this performance.
In this age of often working from home, there is a skill set that many of us have developed of being able to go from shabby to looking somewhat respectable in no time at all.
Not to brag, but I’ve gotten pretty good at it. I can go from being in my third-favourite pair of track pants to fairly gussied up in about 15 minutes flat.
The trick to this is being like one of those cooking shows and having the prep work already done. Nails filed, check. Knowing where the black socks are as opposed to the blue socks, check. The only thing missing is some sort of nifty Batman slide to whisk me to my car.
With a daughter and wife in my house, every bathroom is festooned with lotions, potions and instruments of beauty like a wizard’s convenience store. While all these articles seem incredibly random, there is an astonishing amount of organization to this display and I know that I’m supposed to leave it undisturbed.
Not today though. I jump into the cold shower (yeah, I’m one of those guys). With my eyes closed as the iceberg hits me in the face, I reach out and grab the first container that touches my fingertips. Rinse, lather, repeat exactly as those helpful instructions suggest.
Poof like a goof, I’m in a suit.
In the car, halfway there, my body temperature started to reassert itself. A lovely aroma tickled my nose. In another minute, the tickle has developed into a full-on bear hug. Oh no, what have I done to myself? I smell like a Turkish harem. It was far too late to correct this dazzling fruity pungency.
Shortly into sharing a coffee with the gentleman, I saw his nostrils subtly flare with an instinctive reflex. In his eyes was the question, the analysis and then the conclusion. Yes, it was me. Admittedly, he was assisted by the fact that all the other patrons were sporting their finest yellow-and-orange safety attire and with whom one could safely assume, didn’t feel it necessary to adopt such fancy airs.
Him being a tactful individual, didn’t offer comment, and I had enough wherewithal not to attempt to explain my unique redolence.
Our discussion was thankfully constructive and composed of the four main points:. Here’s what I need. Here’s when I need it. Can you do it? And, how much will it cost? Agreeing to meet the next week, we carried on with our day.
Later, back at the house, I marched to the scene of where my adventure had begun, determined to find out what fragrance I had inadvertently draped myself in. Picking up my daughter’s bejeweled bottle, there it was in lovely writing, square on the label: “Pretty as a Peach”
Making a good first impression is so important.
Enjoy yourselves.
Douglas Miller lives in Greater Sudbury. A rotating stable of community members share their thoughts on anything and everything, the only criteria being that it be thought-provoking. Got something on your mind to share with readers in Greater Sudbury? Climb aboard our Soapbox and have your say. Send material or pitches to [email protected].