The Art of the Deal Part II

To see Part I, click here.

From that point on, Bruce and I spent our days apart. He spent his time on the phone with the bank and the office back home, and then dealing with the client. I spent my time with Hank, in various conference rooms, obtaining signatures from tribal leaders. My friend E was my contact at the office, and we spent long phone calls going through all of the documents, making sure I had signatures on each one. At the end of the last day, we realized we were missing one signature from the president of the tribe, on one of the documents. I hung up with E and told Hank we had a problem. “Oh that’s no problem!” bellowed Hank. I got the feeling Hank had few problems. “I’ll give her a call and we’ll bring it to her house,” he said. That seemed weird but whatever, Hank was local counsel. I let Bruce know what was going on and we set up a time to meet for dinner. Then I headed out with Hank, on our way to President Rachel Garcia’s house. I was driving the rental car.

“You can go faster,” said Hank. The last thing I wanted was a speeding ticket, I said. He laughed and said, “the President can sign off on any ticket you get. We’re on tribal land! Step on it!” So I stepped on it, giving my rental car a run for its money. Hank directed me, and wouldn’t you know it, Rachel Garcia lived on Rachel Garcia Drive. “Do they switch the name of the street every time there’s a new president?” I asked. “Sure do!” said Hank. I followed him into President Garcia’s house. I admired her Christmas tree as we obtained the last signature, then we went speeding back to the old hotel. The deal was done. I had successfully shepherded signatures on approximately 1 million documents. I felt a sense of accomplishment along with a strong sense of bewilderment.

We are now at the part of the story that my colleagues at the time particularly loved. Maybe you had to know Bruce, or maybe it was just ridiculous, or maybe I tell it well in person, but at any rate, I hope it works half as well in written form. Bruce and I were done with the deal, and it was time to pack up and head home to the big city. We dropped off the rental car and arrived at the El Paso Airport with many hours to spare. I don’t know what the setup is there now, but the El Paso Airport is not big. The restaurant was set up with one storefront. Bruce said we should have dinner before we flew home since we had so much time. Fine by me. So we went to the restaurant. The host explained that down the long tunnel to the left was the Italian restaurant and down the long tunnel to the right was the Mexican restaurant. I peered down both tunnels, but couldn’t see anything. Bruce told me to pick. Yikes. I never turn down Italian food, so Italian it was.

Immediately, I knew I had made a mistake. The Italian restaurant was illuminated only by flickering candlelight. Soft music played over the speakers. White linens adorned the tables. All the other patrons were couples in close conversation. What the hell kind of airport restaurant IS this? I wondered to myself. It was too late now, so I parked my carry-on suitcase next to our table for two and sat on down.

I hadn’t had anything to drink on this trip, but I knew I would need a stiff Chardonnay in order to get through this meal. I squinted to see the wine list in the low light, and ordered a glass. “I’m also having Chardonnay. We may as well get a bottle,” said Bruce. Even better. I don’t remember if we toasted to celebrate the closing of the deal, I don’t remember WHAT on earth we talked about, but I do remember that Bruce was tapping away endlessly at his BlackBerry™ while I was waiting for the wine to kick in. It was about as awkward as awkward gets.

After I returned to the office, I turned the signed deal documents over to E and we sorted them out. Bruce never spoke to me again. Literally – never one time. It was like the weirdest one-night stand ever. I never spoke to Ian again, either. The firm higher-ups continued to let me languish with laughably low billable hours. Since I am no dummy, I kicked my job search into high gear. More on that next time.

Xoxo

BHPO