The Meeting of Men
The Meeting of Men
A man sits next to me waiting for an in-person meeting with a client. He’s wearing a crisp light-blue button-up long sleeved shirt with a brown belt, navy blue slacks, and black shiny dress shoes. His hair is short and light brown and cut neat with style.
He comments on my drink.
“I’m jealous of your beer. I’ve got one last meeting coming up.”
I tell him its Kombucha.
We continue to work silently side-by-side for a couple of hours until the person he is meeting comes in through the coffee shop door.
As far as I can tell they have only spoken briefly on the phone. They greet and shake hands with the manly rhythm often seen in business.
One solid shake.
Sometimes two.
The new man is wearing a crisp light-blue button-up long sleeved shirt with a brown belt, navy blue slacks, and black suede dress shoes. His hair is short and light brown and cut neat with style.
They talk about business. Stuff I naturally zone out on.
I put my headphones on to drown them out.
In the midst of their meeting I hear their muffled voices heighten with glee. A rise of emotion due to a common personal connection in the world. They both reach out a hand with closed fists towards the middle of the table and knock their knuckles together with a laugh. A fist-bump. They smile and continue to talk and their voices rise once more with glee. Another connection, another fist-bump. More business talk after that. I think they are friends now. The meeting comes to an end and they hesitate to leave. I wonder what they are thinking.
The original man mentions word of a beer and the other mentions he hasn’t indulged since the birth of his recent child. An awkward moment passes and the original man rustles in preparation of leaving.
The other points out that he is going to stay. The other says he will too.
“You want me to buy you a beer?” Says the new father.
“Are you gonna have one?” Whispers the thirsty one, hushed with eager.
“Yea.”
“Yea.”
And they drink. And continue to bond like old friends. I bet they’ll complain to their wives about how each was a tool. Or maybe they’ll say each was cool. I’m still waiting to see if they connect knuckles once more.