Why it’s sometimes OK to make a fool of yourself.

Now, let me just say first off – I am not a frequent drinker. Yet, I live true to the adage “Everything in moderation, including moderation.”

But (you knew it was coming) under persistent pressure from The Client, I did on a particular occasion, enjoy several rather robust vodka Martinis (despite my feeble protests) while having dinner with The Client in a shameless attempt to secure business from him.

And this is what happened.

The First Act.
I accepted a generous Martini at the bar while waiting for The Client’s Partner who was running a few minutes late. And, after moving to our assigned table, I sipped a second Martini to near completion (saving the last sip to savor with its olive).

Then, in response to the Client’s observation that the little candle in a glass votive was burning against its tiny (but as I was soon to discover, exceedingly potent) opaque nest, transposing its pearly luster to murky carbon, I made an awkward attempt at gallantry, and reached across the table to retrieve the offending object.

And, despite having had a sufficient dose of spirits, I was quick to notice how efficiently the exceedingly hot glass scalded my right thumb and forefinger.

This observation compelled me to move the red-hot vessel from my sad grasp in a most expedient manner.

The Second Act.
My decision as to how that removal should occur is one I now regret. My chosen action was to rapidly separate my fingers from the ill-tempered scoundrel. And, obeying natural law, the object began a rapid descent and made a twisty landing onto my salad plate with its few remaining field greens.

The sudden impact sent searing white hot wax splashing down the front of my new, blue rayon shirt and onto my lap.

My arm continued its recoil and the elbow knocked and tipped my Martini glass just enough to spill a few remaining drops. However, I am proud to say that I was able to right the capsized dingy just before the last of the liquid attempted to vacate its shelter.

The Third Act.
At the same moment, the Confident Executive to my left was about to enjoy a mouthful of ruddy Merlot, his elbow lifted and cocked before him as be brought the goblet to his mouth.

His effort was not rewarded however, as he was forced by instinctive response to react in a startled manner to the event taking place on the salad plate, in the air, and in the lap of Humiliated Business Writing Trainer to his right.

The sudden shifting of my dinner companion’s wine arm from its intended course directed several ounces of the vermilion fluid out of his stemmed glass, onto his own salad plate, and over the crisp white cloth that covered our table.

The Wait Staff.
A team of attentive servers was quick to respond to this silly commotion with fresh napkins, renewed wine glasses, and reassurance to startled diners nearby.

I was not offered another brisk Martini, but instead given a humbling half-glass of Merlot.

Furthermore, as atonement for my hasty action, I was required to spend the remainder of the evening cloaked in waxy armor, exposed before the public, who were left to judge the meaning of my mysterious white sash as they wished.

The Fluke.
This splashy event was not without its merits however, as it introduced a curious twist to an other wise level-headed evening of business talk.

The Client, I was surprised (and relieved) to learn, had successfully completed a similar feat some years earlier while in Tokyo and in the company of dignitaries from that country’s national airline. His deed was made more humbling by the gracious decorum of the Executives and Geisha who were in attendance.

The Advice.
The Client was correct to point out, I admitted to him the next day, that perhaps I might choose another more prudent option to extinguish an errant flame in the course of future outings.

The Question.
So what, you might be wondering, has any of this to do with you?

Well for one thing, it serves as a simple cautionary tale, which might come to mind should you find yourself tempted by a flickering wick during a future business dinner of your own.

Or, it could entice you to join me at the dinner table in hopes that I might recreate similar acrobatics right before your astonished eyes.

Or, perhaps you’ll find my name at the top of your mind when you next consider how best to give your staff the confidence and skills they need to think clearly and write what they mean.

And don’t be concerned if you fear your colleagues may be a tricky bunch. After this humbling experience, I can handle the heat.