Drooling on the Pillow

Thursday, January 26, 2006

I Got Yer Charming 

It's not like I get a lot of love from the world in general on a daily basis. And by 'a lot' I mean what I expect, what I feel is mine by rights. And I'm not unaware that what I expect may be far from my just deserts. I know that when I arrived in the Big City in 1967 I was a little confused about the fact that there wasn't a parade in honor of the event. I got over that eventually.

But yesterday I happened to overhear an associate refer to me in a phone conversation as 'that charming fella that runs the midtown office'.


I don't know. My mother thinks I'm charming and my wife does. Most days. But people in general seem more resistant than I would be, if I was somebody else.

This woman was from one of our European offices and has only been in my office on days when I really, really needed to be charming. And, like anyone, I guess, I can be charming when I want to or need to. But to be characterized in that way by a near stranger made a real dent in the doom and depression I've been working so hard on for the past few weeks. My new office has only been open for a week and a half now and what I'm working on is getting to the end of the day without doing myself a serious mischief and here's this French broad making a point of noting my personal power of captivation.

I don't know.

I'll tell you how charming I am.

A couple of years ago I got into a conversation with one of our senior partners from the DC office about Little Feat. Turns out we were both fans. He told me some stories about going to some Little Feat concerts. I told a story about stealing some Little Feat CDs. The next time he was in our office I saw him in a loaner office reading a document. I swung open his door and remarked in a conversational way "If you'll be my Dixie chicken, I'll be your Tennessee lamb" The look on his face was kind of undescribable, but the client on the speaker phone with him did a spit take and it was easy to imagine a guy in an office somewhere with little drops of coffee sprayed all over his desk.

I measure my charm by the fact that I wasn't fired and that partner is still very friendly to me. That's one charming fucking pig.

Here's the song.

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Update: I'm indebted to DarkoV for pointing out I had my Little Feet in my mouth. Fan, indeed.
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