Most every one of us has a personal story that we can barely even tell because we can't get through the story without busting out laughing multiple times. This thread is dedicated to those stories.
Before I launch in, I will accept that this story is probably not going to connect with everyone in the way it did with me, but it is to this day the one story I cannot relate without multiple pauses to stifle my laughter. It's what I got. So, here goes . . .
I have a buddy who already is the funniest human being I've ever known. He's also struggled a lot to find his place in his career . . . but he owns it and can joke about it, which makes it all the more comical and him all the more great.
So this buddy, Paul, would come over to my office periodically when I was practicing solo financial planning (and not doing so great myself). At that time I officed in a small building with a lot of other solo business guys who were pretty cool . . . except this one guy, Tim.
Poor Tim always had to talk about his latest whale-of-deal. Dude who was obviously struggling but was so incurably insecure that he was always bragging and name-dropping and what-not.
So anyways, my buddy Paul swings by one day and we head outside to the porch area to have a smoke.
Paul is at this particular moment in between his most recent failure and his next bad venture. It's been about a month or more hiatus at this point.
While we are out there, Tim decides to mosey on over. He's never met Paul so he's got a new person to impress. I introduce them knowing full well we have a truly oil-and-water encounter about to happen.
Tim launches in immediately with dick-swinging, name-dropping stories about his awesome career and latest mega-deal. It's insufferable but Paul is just dialed in to every word with maximum ego-stroking attention, just baiting him on and on.
"Uh-huh, and then what?"
"Wow, what was that like?"
"Amazing, whatcha do next?"
On and on Tim goes.
Finally he runs out of stuff to brag about and asks Paul,
"So, what do YOU do?"
It's impossible to do justice to the delivery of Paul's reply, but all he offers in the most matter-of-fact tone you can imagine, is one word:
"Nuthin."
Even having had a vague sense that something good was on the way, I was not prepared for this. I immediately have to turn away and gather myself while fighting back laughter.
Tim of course has no category in his brain for someone who would be this frank about the state of his life or career. It's beyond his comprehension. So he thinks my laughter is a sign that Paul is telling a joke. So he laughs too, in a kind of uneasy way. After the laughter dies down, he tepidly asks again,
"Ha ha. So, what do you really do?"
This time I know it's coming, or at least I hope so. Still, I can barely watch the same word exit Paul's mouth, this time at a slightly higher yet still dead-pan-matter-of-fact pitch:
"Nuthin."
I am glad I wasn't drinking anything because I would have sprayed them both down. As it was, I catch one glimpse of Tim's dumb-founded expression and I'm immediately bent over grabbing my sides in cackling laughter. I may have had to steady myself to stay on two feet.
It take me at least 30 seconds, and a couple of attempts, to gather myself and stand up again. Tim is still just standing there, open-mouthed, crinkled-brow, trying to verbalize some sort of reply. He's coming up empty, which I've never witnessed. It's like he's emerged from a shelled war bunker. Finally, after he comes back to reality, all he says is "hey, so, nice to meet you," and walks away.
Just one honest word spoken twice that still lights up my endorphins decades later.
Anyway, I never heard any more of Tim's bragging the rest of my time in that office.
There is no greater repellant to arrogance than unabridged honesty.
Before I launch in, I will accept that this story is probably not going to connect with everyone in the way it did with me, but it is to this day the one story I cannot relate without multiple pauses to stifle my laughter. It's what I got. So, here goes . . .
I have a buddy who already is the funniest human being I've ever known. He's also struggled a lot to find his place in his career . . . but he owns it and can joke about it, which makes it all the more comical and him all the more great.
So this buddy, Paul, would come over to my office periodically when I was practicing solo financial planning (and not doing so great myself). At that time I officed in a small building with a lot of other solo business guys who were pretty cool . . . except this one guy, Tim.
Poor Tim always had to talk about his latest whale-of-deal. Dude who was obviously struggling but was so incurably insecure that he was always bragging and name-dropping and what-not.
So anyways, my buddy Paul swings by one day and we head outside to the porch area to have a smoke.
Paul is at this particular moment in between his most recent failure and his next bad venture. It's been about a month or more hiatus at this point.
While we are out there, Tim decides to mosey on over. He's never met Paul so he's got a new person to impress. I introduce them knowing full well we have a truly oil-and-water encounter about to happen.
Tim launches in immediately with dick-swinging, name-dropping stories about his awesome career and latest mega-deal. It's insufferable but Paul is just dialed in to every word with maximum ego-stroking attention, just baiting him on and on.
"Uh-huh, and then what?"
"Wow, what was that like?"
"Amazing, whatcha do next?"
On and on Tim goes.
Finally he runs out of stuff to brag about and asks Paul,
"So, what do YOU do?"
It's impossible to do justice to the delivery of Paul's reply, but all he offers in the most matter-of-fact tone you can imagine, is one word:
"Nuthin."
Even having had a vague sense that something good was on the way, I was not prepared for this. I immediately have to turn away and gather myself while fighting back laughter.
Tim of course has no category in his brain for someone who would be this frank about the state of his life or career. It's beyond his comprehension. So he thinks my laughter is a sign that Paul is telling a joke. So he laughs too, in a kind of uneasy way. After the laughter dies down, he tepidly asks again,
"Ha ha. So, what do you really do?"
This time I know it's coming, or at least I hope so. Still, I can barely watch the same word exit Paul's mouth, this time at a slightly higher yet still dead-pan-matter-of-fact pitch:
"Nuthin."
I am glad I wasn't drinking anything because I would have sprayed them both down. As it was, I catch one glimpse of Tim's dumb-founded expression and I'm immediately bent over grabbing my sides in cackling laughter. I may have had to steady myself to stay on two feet.
It take me at least 30 seconds, and a couple of attempts, to gather myself and stand up again. Tim is still just standing there, open-mouthed, crinkled-brow, trying to verbalize some sort of reply. He's coming up empty, which I've never witnessed. It's like he's emerged from a shelled war bunker. Finally, after he comes back to reality, all he says is "hey, so, nice to meet you," and walks away.
Just one honest word spoken twice that still lights up my endorphins decades later.
Anyway, I never heard any more of Tim's bragging the rest of my time in that office.
There is no greater repellant to arrogance than unabridged honesty.
