Wednesday, March 12, 2003

One of the greatest joys for any CEO, gentle reader, is the sheer pleasure of interacting with people. Yesterday provided me with two such instances of interpersonal goodness.

After feasting on exquisite Mexican food with gentle reader Linda, she shuttled me back to my skyscraper. I wished her a good evening as I shut the car door.

“Well,” I said, “have a good night.”

She probably responded likewise, I don’t remember, but what I do remember is her parting shot.

“Go home,” she laughed, “to your elves.”

Were it not for my poignant sense of decorum, I would have tasted dinner AGAIN. I kept up a chipper disposition, however, until she pealed away.

Elves. Longtime gentle readers know how much I loathe these creatures. Though I kept up a chipper disposition, my inner child cried like the dickens. How could she mention so abominable a creature? I would have crumpled to the ground in fetal position, but my work ethic propelled me to my office.

And so I trudged into my office building to find gentle reader Carl lounging about in the lobby. I don’t remember if I’ve warned you, dear reader, that meetings with me usually end in a happy maelstrom of TEARS and BLOOD, but Carl clearly never heard of such a warning. He rose from my Posh n’ Plush™ lobby couch to greet me.

“Hello, gentle CEO,” he said with an outstretched hand.

He thought he was being smart, I suppose.

“Who are you?” I warily asked, slightly nettled that my faithful, yet simple doorman once again let in a gentle reader without my approval.

“I’m a gentle reader!” he said with a grin. “I’m here to interview you.”

“If you must.”

“First of all,” he began, “nice blog yesterday.”

At the first hint of sarcasm and constructive criticism, Sir Dippenschitz quietly handed me my modified Cane of Good Behavior: my hallowed Wand of No-Pain. This is simply the Cane, coated in delightful acid, which I use to rebuke nasty, nasty sarcasm.

“Do continue,” I told Carl.

Unfortunately, just as I raised my Wand with righteous justice, Carl disarmed me with his superior martial arts skills. Then he tore out of the lobby with Wand in hand.

“Curse you, Carl!” I said with a shake of my fist.

In one evening, I lost my bat and some of my inner child. Tonight, however, I gained something. You know what I gained? The privilege to write a six to eight paged paper. I may weep openly now.