Falling into ... friendship, swing-dance style

Thus far, I’ve written in detail about my friendships with Tim and Karin. Today is Scott’s turn. With most my friendships, I don’t know the exact day or circumstance that the bond began. That’s not true with Scott … I know EXACTLY when we began our friendship. It was as easy as letting the pretty girl hit on me on Valentine's Day and then falling on my butt.

I’d worked with my previous sales team for several years. We were a tight family and suddenly, the only member of my “new” team I knew was my boss and Scott. I’d met Scott briefly in 2005 at a meeting in Las Vegas and, in February 2006, I was off to Chicago to attend my first meeting with my “new” team. From the invite I saw, the only name I recognized was Scott’s.

I’d flown into DFW on the afternoon of February 12th to get myself mid-way to O’Hare and the next morning saw me flying EARLY into ORD so that I could be part of the first crew in. (This behavior is part of my “making sure everyone is comfortable and taken care of” routine. It is, simply, what I do. Not doing it would be the same as … not breathing. I’m not boasting here – it’s just the truth.) Scott landed at the same time, and we met on an airport walkway. He recognized me before I recognized him (later telling me that my Van’s were a dead-giveaway of my “California-ness”). We headed to baggage to pick up my checked my bags, where I learned they lost the bag that had my warm coat. Terrific … this was February in Chicago, where the average temp was in the mid-teens. But we’d spend most our time indoors, so I left my hotel contact info and we connected with the driver I’d arranged and headed to the hotel to stash our bags and find lunch.

Over lunch prior to the meeting start, we learned that our musical tastes were the same (with perhaps his choices being slightly edgier than mine), that we both order our steaks rare, and that he has a much higher tolerance for caffeine than I do. (I *still* don’t know how he can drink Venti Americanos throughout the day and actually sleep at night.) We both also had the same song assigned to the people who were the first loves of our lives. His strength in his faith was an eye-opener for me because … well, typically sales folks aren’t exactly known for their religion beyond the worship of the all-mighty dollar. It was when he told me that he liked live music that I knew how we’d be spending Valentine’s Day 2006.

The meeting went well (even though my bag had still not arrived) and, as there was no official dinner organized, a group of us met in the lobby to discuss our options. I knew which club I wanted to go to, and we tried to get other folks to come along, but it turned out to just be Scott and I. When we arrived at the club, it had not yet opened for the evening. We walked around the corner and Scott found an English pub so we had dinner and beers there. By the time we were done, the dual-stage club had opened.

So here we were – two pretty-much strangers spending our Valentine’s evening in a city neither of us resided in, ready for music from bands we hadn’t heard of, and each sharing the experience with a new friend. This was either gonna be a bomb or a blast, only time would tell … and it didn’t start out well. The first band had a guy on the keyboard who was a dead ringer for Charlie Manson but he was quite talented and the music was LOUD and only alright. I was worried that it was gonna be a short night. We had a couple more beers, the set was over and we migrated to the other stage at the club.

That’s when Joanna Connor and her band took over ... in every sense of the word. Joanna looked from afar to be about 25 (we later talked with her and clearly closer up, she was more in the 40s range). The girl just absolutely rocked! During her first set, she played something that I knew we could both dance to so dance we did. We sat back down, had a few more beers - there were LOTS of beers, and a quick round of Silver Patron (my fault) - and were having a conversation while the other band took over in the other room. We didn’t move – we talked about … everything. He had photos of his children (they are, of course, adorable).

When Joanna started her second set, by about the third song, this really striking girl walked over and I thought “oh damn, she’s gonna ask the only person here that I know to dance and leave me sitting here all alone like this” … and then I noticed she wasn’t talking to Scott. She was talking to me. I glanced over at Scott and he didn’t seem to mind the idea of watching two gals dance … so I took her outstretched hand as she led me out to the floor. We danced swing for a bit (probably my FAVORITE way to dance) and gosh we were having a lot of fun … right up until I tripped up and I dumped. I dumped bad, and Lord it was SO embarrassing. She helped me steady myself and said “don’t worry about it” … and I tried not to.

We finished dancing and we walked me back to the table, Scott was … taken aback a bit and I walked around behind him and hid myself from my own embarrassment. She thanked him – and me, we hugged (she and I did), and I apologized for embarrassing myself, which he just kinda said was fine and then said “uh – that was hot.” And I said “yeah, especially the part with me falling on my ass” and he said “that part was minor – but that was … um, that was really hot” – so I said “What? Your other coworkers wouldn’t have done that?” and he smiled and said “Uh – no. It’s safe to say other women co-workers would have certainly never danced with her – or danced like that”. It felt good to hear – and I think he actually meant it. I was still embarrassed, but at least he now knew about my level of grace, so it was one less confession to make. The rest of the night included more Patron, and me showing Scott the basics of Swing and we stayed out far past our bedtime - far past mine, anyway.

The next morning started very early, and I was the first in the meeting room. I looked probably just as bad as I felt, if not a little worse and, true friend that he turned out to be, when Scott walked into the room, he looked over at me and had the courage to say “wow – you look like hell.” I smiled, even tho’ doing so hurt my face a bit. “Maybe so”, I replied, “but I got the hot chick to dance with me.” It’s a reference we still make to each other, two years later.

Without even recognizing it, I’d made peace with my team change in 24 hours – at a bar and blues club at the South Side of Chicago … and all I had to do was have enough courage to be myself.