Fired by a twenty-something (Part 2 of 2)

So as I was being fired by this 20-something I just looked at her, nothing more. She came out of her haze of words mid-sentence and asked, “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you saying anything?” I responded, “I would like you to finish. Are you finished?” This young pea-pod looked like she had soiled her diaper or something. What did she think I was going to do, wig out? So while she was daggering this mischief of firing my way, in the meantime Jesus had already taken over my body and my tongue. And as fully as your heart will allow you to believe, he said this to me unmistakably, “Don’t you say a word to her. Let me do the talking. Don’t speak. Let her finish and look her in the eyes.” And then he spoke, “Why do you carry me around inside of you, if you won’t bring me out?” Left on my own, I wanted to smack the sweet milk out of her young mouth or put her in time out, I wasn’t sure which. My turn.
 
First I turned to my “friend” who looked like she mouthed, “I’m sorry.” I looked at her with eyes that said you had your chance to fix this and you chose this. I will deal with you later. In truth, she hired me, she should have fired me. She sent in a rookie.
 
Then I turned to the young sap and I said, “While I appreciate your interest in my family, they fully understand when I am expected home and as always, whenever that time, we will be most joyous to be reunited. My work speaks for itself. I will make no effort and feel no need to defend it here. I will invoice in full for the entire commitment I planned to make to this effort and that you on good faith intended. I think I will have a bite to eat. While doing so, I am happy to capture in writing, the much anticipated  insights from the remaining night’s groups of which our distinguished and most eager colleague will be moderating.” And then I sat down. I ate alone, the leper in a sea of dodging stares.
 
Fast forward to the end of the night on what would have been the eve of NYC the next day. While debriefing as one big group I sat quietly. Then I heard this deep husky voice from the back of the room, I think his name was Nick. He was the most senior person present and the true client, US MARINES. He said, “Why don’t we hear from the earlier moderator. What do you think are the key insights from tonight’s groups? What should we take from this?”

And as if Jesus put me on a soft red carpet, I moved around that room like I was holding court. You could hear a pin drop. My thoughts were fantastically clear. I used carefully crafted word illustrations to paint what if’s beyond what we had heard that day.  I sounded sure, concise, organized, and profoundly innovative in my thinking. Their eyes followed me around that room thirsty for more. My articulation danced in rhythm to what they needed to hear. They, ALL of them, were drowning in jubilation. And when I was done, Nick said, “Wow, I can’t wait to see what NYC brings. You will be in NYC right?” And before I could answer Miss 20-something jumps to her feet and spews as loudly as  the room could comfortably tolerate, “Of course she will. We can’t wait for NYC!”
 
 
EPILOGUE:
Following NYC, my “friend” asked to talk to me over drinks. I had totally ignored her after Chicago to this point.  It had become sad and awkward between us. I was angry and confused by her actions. She had even asked me not to speak in NYC, to defer to her if the client wanted any additional insights. I didn’t. During drinks she started confessing that she had sabotaged me from the beginning in order that she would be able to take over moderating. She was successful in convincing the new to the business, 20-something that I was going about moderating poorly.  Hence the firing. She apologized and even as the words left her mouth, I knew our friendship  and any future collaboration was impossible and unwelcome by me.
 
When I returned to Atlanta, I sent my “friend” an invoice for all of what I expected to earn. She paid promptly, then came a call in the night. She needed my help to finish the project strong. Would I help her off the clock, write her final client report for the project? And though I said no, Jesus spoke for me and said yes.