A New Gig for a Relative Stranger

One of my clients, a cultural arts institution out in Vegas, has been looking to fill a Director-level sponsorship position for awhile. They are without a doubt an unbelievable opportunity. State of the art, brand new facility, entire staff of the best and the brightest in the world (literally – they’ve recruited worldwide) and they are paying their staff with the same prestige. That is to say, they are paying their people handsomely.

I’d be lying if I didn’t say they’ve hinted at wanting me in the position. I’d also be lying if I didn’t say there have been moments an opportunity like this have been tempting. But let’s get serious, I’d self-destruct in Vegas. I can see it now… six months in to this gig I’d wind up a low-rent cocktail waitress at Bill’s Gambling Hall cleaning up beer pong tables in some get-up that looked like it was out of Fredericks of Hollywood. Anyway, that’s not to say the opportunity doesn’t kick ass, it’s just not what I need to be doing.  

However, it might be just the right thing for a new acquaintance I made at the opening cocktail party of my company’s annual conference last night. Enter Sam. Sam sat in on my presentation Sunday and intro’d himself that night by saying if my presentation set the tone for the rest of the conference, that this week was going to be hugely beneficial. I immediately thought he was a cool dude. Flattery won’t get you everywhere, but it will at least hold someone’s attention through their first drink at a networking event. He went on to tell me about his current position and how he was interested in pursuing some new career challenges. He told me about his family and I saw a picture of his kids. Again, just a good, solid guy.

Somehow we got around to my client and their search for the perfect candidate. I had literally just spoken with them prior to talking to Sam. My good deed meter started buzzing – could I play matchmaker between Sam and my client and make some sponsorship magic happen? I immediately made it my quest. I searched that cocktail party high and low for my client hoping to do an on-the-spot intro. No luck. They’d already retired for the night.

I found Sam and promised him I wouldn’t forget to make the introduction and that I was excited at the possibilities. Now, I don’t know how many conferences, networking events or cocktail parties you’ve attended, but people say stuff like this ALL THE TIME. 99.9% of the time they do not follow through. I made it a priority not to fall flat on my promise and be the cliché cocktail party attendee. It had been a long day, and I didn’t get back to my hotel room until fairly late, could I have waited till today to send the email and get Sam introduced to my client so they could meet up at some point during the conference this week? Sure. Would I have dawdled away a little time, lost some of my energy and possibly forgotten if I had waited? Quite possibly. So, I dug out Sam’s card and fired off an email to my client introducing the two and saying I thought it was imperative they meet at my round table event the next morning and talk about the possibility of working together. Sam immediately emailed me back “I owe you a huge one! Just for making the introduction, I owe you big time!” It felt great. I literally felt like I could put my head on the pillow with a smile on my face and know I earned that smile.

Know what I usually do at a “networking event?” Stand in the corner with my colleagues acting antisocial and drink a glass (okay, maybe 2… alright, honesty is a virtue I’m working on, maybe it’s truly 3) of red wine and head back to my room when I feel I’ve “paid my dues.” Not this year. I resolved to be as open to meeting as many new people as possible. And I wouldn’t interrupt. I’d listen to what they were curious about, I wouldn’t try and solve all their problems off the bat, but if I could help, I’d do that too. More importantly, I’d genuinely be interested. Not just “it’s my job so I’m ‘interested,’ interested,” but truly invested interested. At this stage I don’t know if Sam got the job, but the two of them met at my session this morning and looked to have a great conversation. One simple change in my attitude may mean someone else’s life changes and one of my clients solves a challenge they’ve been grappling with for months. My cup runneth over at the thought of how positively powerful we can be when we set our mind and our attitude to the right frequency. Here’s to hoping Sam lands the gig!

A Gown Fit for an Ass-kicking Survivor Princess

Every Saturday I spend seven and a half hours with people planning what is hopefully one of the happiest days of their life. It's sacred time helping a woman, her mother, her sister(s), and friend(s) pick out a wedding gown. It's not an act many people get to be a part of and the inside scoop and access many of these women are willing to grant you in the confines of the dressing room can be truly staggering.

The bride-to-be I worked with this week, we'll call her Jenny, was one of those brides that had a major impact on me the first time I worked with her. Note to the inexperienced out there: brides often come back to the same boutique three or four times with a whole new posse each time to make sure they're really sure about "the dress." Such was the case with Jenny. I worked with her for the first time in mid-February. Jenny is tiny. A petite, fellow curly haired gal (although a brunette), with a way of carrying herself that just lets you know in some way she's fragile. She came in with a smile plastered to her face, although it felt a little forced. Wedding dress shopping can be a bit intimidating and a fake smile isn't all that rare to see. But something about this was different.

Jenny had her mom in tow on this first trip and I could tell they both had heavy hearts. I'm the kind of person that for better or worse (pun recognized) I pick up on whatever energy is around me. So much so that sometimes I literally feel like I walk around through life the permeable girl. At any rate, Jenny began picking out dresses. She had a budget that was strict and a requirement - the dress couldn't be too heavy. After gathering up some selections I put them in her room and asked if she wanted my help getting in and out of the dresses. I got a polite but swift "no thank you." Some people are shy and don't want someone in their fitting room (I'm one of these people) I get it. But again, this felt somewhat different. As Jenny tried on dresses both she and her mother seemed to perk up a bit.

Jenny even asked for my help a few times getting in to some of the bulkier dresses. Finally she spilled the beans: "I have skin cancer and I've had some very painful procedures recently." Cue the not wanting heavy dresses, rough fabrics tugging on her skin and a stranger in her fitting room. We spent a moment staring each other straight in the face. From that point on I was not a bridal consultant. I seriously cared that this girl get exactly what she needed and wanted and not just in a wedding gown. I remember how carefully I clipped her dresses (which all gaped off of her tiny frame) so as not to pinch her skin and how hard I tried to find exactly what she was looking for.

Jenny and her mom left, we had a very heartfelt goodbye in which I sincerely told her I hoped she'd be back and that I was wishing her all the best.

Cut to yesterday when I showed up to work to see Jenny's name back in the book for a second appointment. Jenny rolled in to the bridal boutique a new woman. Curls bouncing, friends in tow, mom with a gleam in her eye - these girls were ready to make a decision and get this wedding rolling. I was greeted with the warmth of a lifelong friend. As I put Jenny's dresses in her fitting room she jabbered away about the shoes she had ordered that she hoped would make it in time for this appointment (canary yellow heels), the dancing she planned on doing at her wedding and the order in which I thought she should try on the dresses to give her audience the best show.

As I went to exit the dressing room so Jenny could try her dresses on she grabbed my arm, "I need to tell you something, all of my tests came back negative." Now neither one of us was in a hurry to get me out of the fitting room. I shut the door behind me, my eyes welled up and I grabbed Jenny's hand and told her how incredibly happy that news made me. She also explained to me that the last time they had been in not only were her test results unknown but her grandfather (her mother's dad) had just passed.

As Jenny whittled down the selections, took the feedback from her friends and mother I came to realize that somehow, someway she was most interested in my opinion - though I have no idea why. Finally she tried on the all lace dress that I remembered her lighting up in on her first appointment. That familiar look crossed her face and I couldn't help but feel the "this is it" feeling that I imagine I might feel one day myself. Needless to say, everyone else saw the look and felt the feeling too - even though not everyone was aesthetically in love with the dress, they shut their mouths, looked at Jenny's face and knew it was "the one."

Needless to say, Jenny ordered that lace dress yestereday for her wedding and promised me to only make appointments on Saturdays from here on in - on the days I'd be there to see her. I don't know if this really counts as a good deed for the day but I can tell you this, I was more present with Jenny than I've been with anything or anyone in a long time and I feel like somehow she knew.

Here's "The Dress:"