Lost Luggage (a lesson in miscommunication)

of course i will succeed…

The car was cold. He’d paid the obligatory compliments and suddenly “first sales call, this is huge for you” is echoing in his ears and he fidgets for a millisecond before regaining control.

He isn’t quite ready, but going on a call with the boss is his chance to prove something. The ladder won’t climb itself, so he clears his throat and looks out the window. He reminds himself to focus on what he wants.

He says exactly thirteen words in the pale blue hallway; they don’t stick out, or sink in, and his stomach drops with failure. (He has a history with that word - don’t ask.) But Michael, who was nervous around him, starts talking and the whole point of this becomes clearer. “Test” and “teach” aren’t the same after all.

They are, of course, completely successful, and he allows a smile to stretch across his face as they march back to the car. (Champions, victorious.) Michael congratulates him on the sale, and a funny tone rises in his voice when he replies. (“Why, thank you, Michael. You were excellent also.”) He turns on the radio in the car – Metallica. He considers it a sign when Michael does a bit of air guitar and sings, “We are the champions.” (Wrong band, wrong song - but still.)

He watches Michael very closely when they get back to the office; he will learn everything from this man.