|
Chapter 19
Being Monday, in the mid morning, it
was busy at the Senator’s office. People
were running around everywhere, as if they had their week’s duties lined
out from their morning meetings and were now scrambling to get to their
offices to get it all done. There
were people of all ages working there.
Some were very young looking, pimple faced kids.
I figured they were Pages, trainees for the future leaders of our
country. You could see they
worked at dressing for the part, very conservative, slacks and jackets
with white blouses for the girls, as well as sport jackets and white
shirts with ties for boys that we saw.
Very flat double
Windsor
knots too! I chuckled to
myself. Some of the boys had
jeans and tennis shoes, making me think about the years it took me to gain
that kind of confidence. I
figured they were not first year Pages, now gaining their level of
confidence in what they were doing. With
all the highly publicized stories of Page abuse, it would make you think
that would be a job that no one would want.
I guess in anything, the few stories we hear are a small part of
the big picture, probably a great program for these aspiring young
politicians to be, pure in thinking, there for all the right reasons of
helping their country. The
grooming that goes into politics was a lifetime process for many.
For me, well, quite a different story.
“Mr. Simms?”
“Yes, I am Golden Simms.” She
called out my name as she approached me, after I had given them my name at
the receptionist desk upon arrival. “Are
you Ms. Reeder”, I asked? “Yes,
Mr. Simms. How was your trip?
Uneventful I hope?” “Any
trip with my wife is eventful, in a good way of course”
“How nice”, she replied, as she broke into a smile from what
seemingly was a very strict and staunch environment that she worked in.
It was like a human popped out from her starched face look.
I could see she had a Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde life too.
I wondered at that moment what she might be like in her home
element, probably bright and cheery, and very casual.
I could see it was in her; as we continued our conversation.
“It will be a few minutes and Senator Noble will see you.
He asked about you this morning, to see if you were coming.
I told him I believed so and that you had the eleven o’clock.”
I figured he stacked appointments up for the days he was in the
office, what I assumed was a politician’s life of meetings.
“I believe he is anxious to talk to you.
Take a seat for a few minutes and I will call you when he is ready.
As I looked around while
waiting for the eleven o’clock hour I thought to myself, do I really
want to do this?
Ms. Reeder, Fran, approached me at
the top of the hour on the dot. “Mr.
Noble will see you now.” My
heart took that heavy thump again that I get when life gets exciting.
Again life felt bigger than I.
What was going to happen in that room, and what did he want with
me? Was he going to be in
approval, or was he going to slam me and send me down the road crying for
messing with his highly important and strict political system I had stated
I was entering. Was he about to tell me that I had no business being
there, was frivolous and demeaning of the system in my efforts, and that I
had no business running for the office of President of the United States?
My lack of college degree was once again giving me those familiar moments
of insecurity, not being good enough to be there.
That feeling returned that I had felt more often in the last few
months of nervousness. I was
breaking out in a sweat, hands getting clammy, knowing I had to shake his
hand when I met him. Firm
handshake, I thought. This was
second nature for me as I always thought a limp handshake was a sign of an
untrained individual in the business world.
My father taught me that when I was very young.
No limp fish in this handshake, but definitely a wet one.
I couldn’t help that. Again
as we walked towards those big doors to his office I thought of Margie’s
past words now waiting in the RV for me to get home, “Be careful what
you say Goldie, think before you speak.”
Again those words rang out in my head.
I could not turn around to see what her response was this time.
I couldn’t try to read her eyes this time to see if I was doing
the right thing. I was on my
own this time. I had been on
my own in my work life my entire career.
This was different. Each
comment, each meeting, critical junctures in this wild endeavor of ours.
Whatever he though, as important as it seemed to me, I was about to
find out.
Fran
Reeder introduced us with the perfection of a true professional.
“Mr. Simms, I would like to introduce you to our Texas State
Senator, the honorable Ben Noble, and proudly for the state of
Texas
the Senate Majority Leader for the
United States of America
. This is Mr. Golden Simms sir from
Missouri
, at your request.” It was
the longest and most thorough introduction I had ever heard.
It immediately added to the intimidation factor for sure, almost
giving him the immediate upper hand in any subsequent statements of this
negotiation, or meeting, whatever his intent.
He definitely had initial control of this meeting, taking it any
direction he wanted. I figured
he did have an agenda with me. I
just did not know what it was. It
was then, I shook his hand. He
was a large man, must have been 6 foot 6, towering over most all
individuals, definitely me. His
mere presence was statute in appearance.
He had a beautiful suit on, tailored to perfection, and cologne
that was pretty strong. His
handshake was indeed firm as mine usually is, but closed his hand a little
early so that I did not get full entry for a handshake grip.
He squeezed and smashed my fingers together so that I couldn’t
get any grip. I knew this
trick to enter a handshake with your hand partially closed so that would
happen. It kept any firm
handshake from happening from your negotiating opponent, and a negotiating
trick well played. He squeezed
my hand with his large hand, dry as a bone I noted, and crushed my fingers
together. His other hand
reached up and grabbed my forearm. He
held my forearm through this agonizing moment as if to prevent any
retraction through this handshake, also a technique for a sense of
affection to some, and a sense of control to others.
It all worked. He was
good. It was a powerful moment
for a simple handshake and he played it like a pro.
Politicians meet and greet constantly and use all the techniques to
convey what they want. This
guy had it down to a tee. This
was definitely a meeting of negotiation, not a mere welcome and thanks for
your vote. That handshake
would have been all very similar, but with other obvious and gentle
attributes. He held it there
for a moment as to remind me that I was a subordinate, and with piercing
eye contact, he finally spoke with his deep voice.
|