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created on 12/1/2008
Everything was moving along so smoothly that Saturday. All I had to do was get through security, board my flight and I would be off to Moscow, Russia. Until I was informed at the ticket counter that my flight had already boarded and I would not be able to make it through security in time to leave. It's amazing the instant increase in pressure you feel when you discover that your flight time was changed, and no one thought to inform you about it. There was no doubt that I was panicked. There was only one flight remaining out of Oklahoma that Saturday and I had to find someone who could get me on it. I dialed every number in my cell phone without a single person answering. Finally success! I was able to reach one of the account managers at our corporate office. She answered her telephone even though she was on a weekend outing at the beach with her son and his friends. She was able to help me while herding five-year-olds to the car and racing over to the office to search for telephone numbers. She went above and beyond for me on that day.
I finally made it to Moscow a day late. I arrived on Monday morning at 6 a.m. with no idea where to go or how to get there. I was slim on time with no place to shower. I was going to have to change my clothes in the nearest public restroom and grab a cab to my consulting assignment. I hoped I could make it. It was a bit of a Superman experience, only without the tights, the cape, and the phone booth. I don't remember Superman changing in a public restroom with a group of homeless men. No, only me — Super Dave.
I entered the restroom. It was small and cramped and I took the only place available — along the back wall opposite the sink and much too close to the urinals. Directly next to me was an old man, followed by several homeless gentlemen. My neighbor looked to be in his 80s with a very slight build. He was quite a bit shorter than me, standing there without his shirt on and wearing baggy khaki trousers, and what looked like Russia's version of a pair of beat up old Converse All Stars.
As I opened up my suitcase on the floor, I could feel the band of homeless fellows staring at me. I did my best to hide the sea of props floating in my luggage as I removed my wrinkled slacks and shirt. I'm sure they were wondering why I was there.
My friend and I shared the sink – I was shaving while he washed his face and underarms. For some reason it didn't feel strange, even though I was on his turf. We took turns while the others waited in line and watched.
When I finished, I noticed him light a cigarette before he put on his t-shirt. I was the only one in the men's room without a cigarette. I might as well have had one, my lungs felt as if I had.
After I finished dressing, I zipped up my suitcase and walked back up to the sink to look in the mirror when my friend stepped in front of me and purposely blocked me for a minute. He looked up at me while his cigarette hung from his lips. Smoke was trailing up around his nose and up through his bushy eyebrows. He reached up towards me and I froze. I wasn't sure what his intentions were, but I wasn't afraid. I just stood there looking at him as he reached out and straightened my tie. I couldn't believe it. This old man just straightened my tie as if I was preparing to leave for my first job interview. He dropped his hands down to his sides, smiled and winked at me as if to say, "Now you're ready." I smiled and nodded back, thanking him for his assistance. I never looked back in the mirror. His approval was enough for me.
As I headed towards the taxi cab stand I looked back, but he wasn't there – still grooming I guess.
I think of that morning often – especially when I'm stressed and things don't seem to be going my way. I'm sure that the brief discomfort I felt that week didn't compare to what my new friend faced daily on the cold streets of Moscow. As I get older, I look for life lessons wherever I can. They seem to be getting easier for me to recognize.
- David Lane, Consultant
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