Dude, Where’s My Car?
The other evening I had a meeting with my husband and a computer whiz who we were interviewing to see if he could help boost my husband’s business via his online web traffic. (My husband is a general contractor but 100% of his work comes through word of mouth… even though I helped him build a beautiful website with a testimonial video and gorgeous photos of his work.)
It was one of those weird days when everyone was running behind. The babysitter was late and my husband was late, so I wound up welcoming Mr. Whiz Kid into my home as I simultaneously looked after my three rambunctious kids. Mr. Whiz Kid brought his girlfriend, too – we’ll just call her WKGF (Whiz Kid’s Girlfriend).
Oh, and by the way, WKGF? Stoned out of her mind.
It was strange. Opening the door, expecting to greet a young professional (Whiz Kid) who claims with good authority (and good references) that he can drive our web traffic and social media standing up 1000% in less than a month, and instead, greeting a female version of Harold and Kumar meets Jeff Spicoli. [In Mr. Whiz Kid’s defense, he was probably stoned too, but I would never have known – his eyes were clear and his manner courteous and direct.]
WKGF? Not so much. Her eyes were flaming red. It was palpable – the effort she put into keeping them open – so much so, that I kept wanting to reach over and put a motherly hand on her arm, and offer her our couch to go lie down on and perhaps some Pirates Booty to quell those munchies, while her boyfriend did business.
But another part of the motherly part of me wanted to… um, how can I put this delicately? Strangle her. Yes, that’s the word I was looking for. How dare she come to a business meeting stoned out of her mind? How dare she smile and train her glazed, 80′s digital clock eyes on my innocent kids? And how dare he – Whiz Kid – think it was okay to bring her along?
The meeting was odd and strange and practically incomprehensible. My husband finally showed up and we negotiated a small starting fee for Whiz Kid to see if he can do for us what he apparently does for his other clients.
I don’t regret giving him my business. After all, business is business. I just wish he had thought to leave Little Bo Peep back in the meadow…
Sheva (BatSheva Vaknin)