Lunch With A Perfect Stranger

(Continued from last week's blog)

in between customers, asked her a few more questions about the many details in closing a store. As if the clouds lifted and the Fat Lady sang, I knew if this woman and I met, we would have many things to talk about. We might even be friends! It was a date: we would meet Saturday, at the store, around 12 for lunch.

I hung up feeling as if God, himself, sent this woman my way if only to say, "I'm with you. Your on the right path."

With jubulation, I call my bookkeeper, Barb, to tell her the news. Why call the bookkeeper? Two reasons: one, Barb has banged heads with me on how to navigate through the financial details of closing. Two: she's become a friend-Awe!

Barbara and I met 6 months ago over the phone, too. She was highly recommended by Bellingham's Small Business Center. We phone interviewed, met and my P&L's have never shone so brightly!

So, I calls Barb, and relay the conversation. Of course, she was happy for me, especially since it was so out of the blue for myself and a complete stranger to converse about a present situation. Woo Woo...

That night peacefully expanded into a kitchen table conversation with John, when he asked, "What do you know about this person? What's the name of her store? How do you know she's legitimate?" My heart sinks. If only I carried the scrap of paper with me that scribed all the conversation's critical information. I reply, "I can't remember. I don't know if she is legitimate, but she sounded nice over the phone. Besides, we're meeting at the store-a public place-which should be safe."

Those pessimistic questions made me look at myself with hesitation: I was trusting a total stranger. How often do we hear stories on the internet about adult abduction? Would a 60 year old woman really want to kidnap me: a middle aged woman who is hormonal and has panick attacks? Where is the glory in that?! Besides, I can still scrap pretty well. John should know, since we wrestled a couple weeks ago in the living room floor and I earned at least 4 points by doing a couple reversals.

That night I go to sleep, creating an emergency plan, "I can cancel if I don't feel good. I can walk out of the lunch date if I got scared, threatened, or if the stranger was rude and beligerent. Zzzz..."

At 11:55 am, I walk into my very public store to be greeted by a well-groomed, flawless complected 60+ year old woman, who doned a toothy smile with some well-earned wrinkles. We shook hands, and immediately went to lunch. I suggested a favorite place us locals like to frequent, called Nell Thorn. She agreed.

Her name was "Sharon". As we walked and talked, she reminded me of the many manicured sales reps at the Seattle Gift Center. She had poise, a framed demeanor, and was out for a sale.

After we got seated, she handed me a letter that she had sent to her landlord, explaning the process of her lease termination. We conversed about the closure of her business (after all, this was the whole point of meeting) and as she talked, I got this uneasy feeling in my gut. She continued to describe her internet business that she is continuing from home, and about looking for potential lines. I could hear her stomach gurgle over my chewing on a superbly built steak salad and homemade crunchy french bread. Had she revealed too much about herself?

Next, it was my turn. I exchanged the equivilent information, however the feeling of just talking about closing the store made me put down several best bites. We were both a little nervous. Who can blame us? When was the last time you had lunch with a perfect stranger-and I mean perfect in an honorable way.

Soon enough, I had summarized her motivation to get together with me: she was still mentally in the game of retail. She was activly looking for organic lines to post on her site. Even though her brick store didn't fortify into financial success, I could tell she was still in hot pursuit of the retail dream. I wasn't. Would we be friends? Probably not.

When I was 22, I met an 80 year old gentleman named, William Brooks (Bill to his confidants), at the Nordstrom Rack. He was once a business partner to Brooks-McNight Cheverolet, in Bellevue. Frankly, this man didn't reflect what I thought a successful car dealership partner would look like: he was shorter than me, a little bent over and had a face that lacked muscle tone, so that when he spoke, his entire face shook. That was on the outside.

On the inside, was this marvelously astute mind and manner. It turns out that he was a wealthy man for most of his life, until he manifested esophogial cancer that raped him of his money, but not his dignity.

He would come into the store, sometimes twice a week, and request for me to assist him in finding the best quality at the cheapest price. I reluctantly helped him at first, thinking the worst of this man, until he'd catch my attention with an intriging spiritual, or self-help title to a book he was reading.

One day, we agreed to lunch. We made arrangments and all was set-until I got nervous and dogged him at the last minute. I hid in the store's loading dock and secretly watched as he pulled up in a shiny, blush pink classic cadillac. He circled twice, and left once. The next week he had only one thing to say to me, "You never waste another person's time".

This was so relevent to me, that I never did it to anyone again.

Today, I am grateful for Sharon's lunch visit, even if we had different agendas. I am grateful for the lunch I eventually had with Bill, too. We did become friends. He even attended my wedding!

People have always commented on how naiive I am. You may have, too, as you read this article. But I don't see myself that way. I just like people and know that most everyone has something interesting to share.