Toolbar
Latest Additions

2015

8 items

I’m not normally a jewelry person. Despite having a large collection of Malaysian fashion pieces, I don’t wear much of it. Yet last summer, while walking through a shop in Key West with Ralph, I saw something I loved - an art deco seahorse. Simple, streamlined, seahorse. I saw it from the window and immediately knew it should be mine. But as a beachtown resident myself, I knew - prices in places like this are always negotiable. 

One of the great, yet odd, things about living with your bestfriend is the glimpses into your own neurosis it provides. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like Ralph and I are the same person; nor are we one of those couples who’ve grown to behave alike; but we do, occasionally, approach situations in an eerily similar fashion. Case in point this afternoon. He’s on the phone with Amazon trying to sort out a mislabeled product he just received and totally confused the agent. Hell, I knew what he was talking about, and he almost managed to confuse me! Ralph’s side of the conversation went something like this: 

Ralph and I headed down to the beach the other day to celebrate Kevin’s birthday. We met up with the crew shortly after seven in the evening, and much to our dismay the birthday boy was already well on his way to needing a nap and a sandwich. Sure enough - true to form - not ninety minutes later Kevin went missing; he put himself to bed. Over the course of the next few hours, however, several more guests arrived. Each with the same eye-roll reaction to Kevin’s absenteeism. Before long the cocktail count reached the group’s tipping point for bad decisions and the next thing I knew Brendan and I were leading a parade down the beach to awaken the birthday boy.  

A small startup asked me to come out to London to train their sales team a couple weeks ago. Naturally, I was happy to oblige. As we worked out the final details − dates, travel, and accommodations − I learned their US-based team had rented a house for a couple weeks. Since they are a young, not-yet cash-flush company, they asked that I take the most economical flight − even if it meant me staying an additional night or two; the house had an extra bedroom, so that cost was fixed. It sounded great to me; I’d get to dust off my sales enablement skills and get to spend a weekend in London (and this time [theoretically] without the burden of a broken ankle). So I booked my trip and off I went.  

Ajax told me to sign up for Venmo last month. It seemed like just another PayPal to me, but since he recently spent some time working at a start-up in the banking industry, I figured I’d trust his security judgement. So I signed up, our friend Perl paid me back for a dress I bought her, and I forgot all about the site. That is until the other day when I receive a text message that read:

Last Saturday Ralph and I decided to go to the Festival of Chocolate. We really had no idea what to expect, but what we found was better than even I could have imagined; we stumbled on to, what could only be described as, a teenage boy’s dream date. First, the festival took place at the Miami Auto Museum. So sprinkled amongst the booths of chocolatiers, was a very interesting collection of autos from classic and contemporary cinema. Candy and cars, already much more than we could ask for. 

I’ve spent the last decade carefully honing my morning ritual. Sure there have been some changes - Miami’s climate prompted me to trade the fleece Jets blanket I affectionately call my ‘thinking cape’ for a pair of focus flip-flops - but the core process has remained the same. I wake up, wander about a bit, and check my newsletters email account while the coffee brews. Most of the time there’s nothing worthwhile - just a bunch of bogus deals and cliche coupons - but lately I’ve come to really enjoy the stock photos that are circulating... and their unintended implications. 

Inside the kitchen sink Ralph installed a metal shelf. I don’t know what they are called, but trust me you’re familiar with the device − the grid-looking thing that keeps the dishes from sitting directly on the sink bottom. Anyway, I got to cleaning the other day and realized the sink’s surface could really stand a cleaning. Lazy, as usual, I figured it faster to just fill the sink with a little hot water, a splash of bleach, and some dish soap and let science do the scrubbing for me. So I plug up the drain, flip on the faucet, and head outside to see what Ralph is up to.  

2014

6 items

So I decided to bake today… and true to fridge form I was without eggs at the time I settled on this bright idea. Never discouraged, I thought to myself “there’s got to be a decent egg-less cookie recipe out there,” so I turned to Google for help. As I assembled the ingredients listed in the “Edible Egg-less Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough” recipe, I noticed an absence of any leavening agent. No worries though, I just added some baking powder. I even preheated the oven to 350 degrees - mom would be so proud. In fact, I didn’t have to consult the directions at all - between my mom and Alton Brown, the basic technique for cookie assembly has taken up permanent residence in my mind. That is until it came time to set the timer… 

Ralph and I decided to take a train between Barcelona and Madrid on a recent holiday in Spain. We figured it'd be nicer than a plane as then we'd get to see the Spanish countryside. Both of us being from Chicago, however, has left us with an interesting expectation set regarding train logistics; when we think 'train' we think the L. You know, mass transit, subway-style trains. The kind of trains with fixed prices and regular schedules. Yea... 

I spent the last week working from Chicagoland. The alternate homebase allowed me to catch up with many old friends I hadn't seen in years. My last few passes thru Chicago have been quite quick, leaving me only time to clean my teeth and see my folks; I maintained a social velocity sufficient to obscure the subtleties of my surroundings - like, for instance, the weather. It’s bloody cold in Chicago, yo! I know, I know ... “duh” … but remember, it’s July. For as long as I remember Chicago’s been delightful in July. I mean shit, Chicago gets 75 more minutes of daylight than Miami does at the moment, and yet - somehow - can’t manage to shine away from applying a windchill to their “78 degrees.” But that’s not really the point of my story…

Lately I’ve grown very irritated with my eyes. I don’t believe there’s been any actual change in my vision or anything, but I’m convinced my eyeballs are on strike. You see, I’ve had a mild astigmatism and a touch of far-sightedness my whole life, but I also rock some incredibly accommodating lenses, so when I apply myself, I can read 20-20 no worries. That said, I’ve also been a fan of computer glasses for some time. Because I simply don’t think I should have to try to see. Normally, “corrected” 20-15 is no trouble for me, and it’s still not really - but lately I can’t seem to hold focus for the life of me. The opthamologist explained that, while she could correct the astigmatism with a laser, the problem was more in my brain than my eye. Fan-tastic. 

So I’m walking down Washington the other day with Ralph when all of a sudden I notice he’s no longer by my side. This is unusual because he’s one of the few blokes I walk about with who can actually keep up with me. When I turn to see where I lost him, I discover him staring at a puddle in the street. He looks up and goes “come check out these tadpoles!” Leave it to eagle eyes to spot a school of tadpoles in the gutter out of his peripheral. We both immediately became enamored by the idea of street frogs and quickly boarded the snowball of bad ideas and giggles, or SoBIG as I prefer to think of it. We eventually carried on our way, but as the afternoon marched on and our respective errands concluded, I couldn’t get the street frogs out of my head. After a few more rides on the SoBIG the excitement surrounding this adventure became so big we simply had to go back. Armed with two gallon zip-top bags, a couple of plastic measuring cups, a strainer, and a smile, we marched our way back up Washington to “rescue” some tadpoles. We might have gotten carried away, for when we got back to my place and transferred our refugees into their halfway house in the form of a 5-gallon bucket, we realized we retrieved almost two dozen taddys. Sadly I had to leave town the next day and head to bootcamp, but like any good absentee parent would, I first established a solid joint-custody arrangement; Ralph committed to their care for the next week. 

While digging thru my game cabinet for some unjinxed dice the other day, I stumbled upon an old puzzle. One Tough Puzzle is a brilliantly frustrating 9-piece puzzle boasting 300k incorrect arrangements. Unfortunately for Ralph he witnessed this reunion which resulted in my challenging him to locate the singular solution. A mere 5 days later, while in NYC, I received his victory text. Naturally I scheduled a debrief as soon as I returned; I had to hear the strategy that resulted in such an expeditious resolution! 

Erin Wilson is the author and publisher of the Sapient Salesman

A "sapient salesman"?

 A sapient salesman is tasked with being a psychologist, technologist, empathist, humorist, conversationalist, and a dozen other “ists” in the course of practicing their salescraft. Most people can’t wear that many hats, and these tidbits are designed to minimize your millinery mandates. Read more

The Book

Look for The Sapient Salesman: Spinning Life into Lessons, One Tale at a Time on Amazon.com later this year!

Stay in Touch

You can find me ...

Not Enough. Want to stay informed? Follow me now...