We're out to dinner with an old friend of my husband's from his Michigan football days last night and I'm having some cocktails, of course. We transition from the bar to our table and begin a large work-related conversation about the finance world that both my husband and the old friend are a part of but to me is in another galaxy far, far away. Mr. G is all, blah-blah finance blah and I'm totally zoned out, obviously. As I patiently wait for a lull in the blah-ing, I'm thinking up some magnetic question that I can hit the old friend with to impress him with my conversational prowess. Finally, the moment arrives while Mr. G stuffs a bit of bread in his mouth and for the first time since we'd sat down pauses to take a breath. I jump at the chance and start right in immediately:
"So Ben, I'm a little late to this conversation, what exactly do you do?"
Sorry Charlie, his name is Eric. Better luck conversating next time. Tune in, it's sure to be a doozy.
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