Such a Deal
by Dave Ferguson
For several years I worked for Amtrak, the U.S. rail passenger company. Our offices were at 400 North Capitol Street in Washington DC, just a short walk from the U.S. Capitol.
One day I had a phone call. The caller was very… enthusiastic.
“Hello, Dave! This is Fred Sidecar!”
That wasn’t his name, but that won’t matter much to the story, except that “Fred Sidecar” didn’t mean anything to me.
“Your wife and my wife have worked together for years, and I’ve heard very positive things about you.”
“Nancy Sidecar” (also not her real name) rang the faintest of bells. Finally I recalled that she and my wife had taught CCD classes together at the parish we belonged to. I might have been able to recognize Nancy, but I wouldn’t have wanted to stake a lot of money on it.
That didn’t matter. Fred was off and running. He’d heard I was a successful, respected, and ambitious guy, and just knew I would want to hear about the great opportunity he wanted to tell me about.
Which to me meant only one thing: he was selling Amway products.
He didn’t exactly say that. He asked where I worked (which made me wonder how he got my number) and asked if he could stop by to see me the next day, because it just so happened he’d be in the neighborhood.
I was pretty sure I knew what the pitch would be like, but it was a slow week, so I suggested we meet for lunch at the Dubliner, an Irish pub and restaurant just a block from my office.
And so we did.
The food was good, as it usually was at the Dubliner. The pitch from Fred Sidecar was pretty much a mystery. There was a lot of swamp gas about what a talented guy I was and how he was sure I had many dreams I wanted to accomplish, and how he wanted to share with me an opportunity to help other people accomplish their dreams while I accomplished my own.
This went on in a highly motivational way for at least half an hour.
Finally I said, “Fred, I understand you see me doing all these great things and making a financial success. But it seems to me at some point some goods or services are moving in one direction” — I made a motion with my hands — “and money is moving in the other direction.”
I was pretty sure the money was coming from all these people I’d be “helping,” but I wasn’t sure what they’d be getting for that money.
Fred seemed almost miffed that I would ask, and said that it involved a catalog of “some of the finest merchandise available.” Like microwave ovens and crock pots and hair dryers.
So, it wasn’t exactly Amway, but as I suspected, I’d end up wanting (or needing) to recruit other people to help yet other people achieve their goals (meaning, to sell stuff to others), and somehow I’d get a cut of the action.
I took five minutes or so to try and convince Fred that I really was a person with very little ambition, content to let my family stay in the impoverished state I was condemning them to.
He was pretty disappointed in me.
About that time the waitress brought the check, which she set on the side of the table, close to me and far from Fred. I took out my credit card and put it on top of the check.
Fred made some gesture to pick it up, but I waved him off. It wasn’t that big a deal, and this way I knew I’d clearly be ending the meal and getting out of there.
He made one more effort to convince me to accept the opportunity, but I just kept saying, “I’m sorry, I really don’t think I’m the kind of guy you’re looking for.”
The check came back. I signed the credit card form and peeled off my copy, then started toward the exit.
I looked back to see Fred standing at the table. He’d taken the restaurant check (not the credit card slip) and was tearing off the receipt portion.
In other words, his current business opportunities were so good, he was going to save a receipt from a meal he hadn’t paid for.
That told me all I needed to know about Fred Sidecar and his wonderful opportunities. On the other hand, the lunch probably didn’t come to $20, and I’ve had fun for years telling this story.
Characters • Ferguson, David • Stories • Storytellers • told by David Ferguson | Dave Ferguson December 26, 2006
