Karen and Lisa

I’ve put my foot in my mouth many times in my life by failing to check my assumptions.  I believe there may be a permanent footprint on my palate.  I get disappointed with myself and it can be a hard way to learn a lesson in humility.  Not everything is as it seems or appears on the surface.

It is risky to make assumptions then fail to validate them.

A few years ago I managed to get myself invited to a luxury box at a professional football game.

These luxury boxes are stuffed with food and drink, and feature great views of the field.  But the biggest draw is the opportunity for networking and mingling at a high level with bank presidents and entrepreneurs with lots of contacts.

I met the host once before so I felt fairly confident going in to this event.  A friend of a friend, he’s a tv personality and has written several books on finance and investing.  I wanted to make a good impression on the group. 

At half-time there would be visits from neighboring boxes.  It would be a good place for me to make contacts as I prepared to retire from the Marine Corps and pursue some personal and professional goals.

Just like you might before a meeting or engagement, a date or visiting a restaurant, I gathered some intel before the day of the game.  I watched parts of one of his shows, and listened to part of one of his books.

While listening to the book I selected I noted how he gushed over his wife.  In the book he identifies his wife, Karen, as a Wall Street Wizard.  That struck me as something useful for my visit.

On game day I found myself sitting next to the Wall Street Wizard.  This seemed like a good time to demonstrate how I’d done my homework.  So during our friendly chat, I called her Karen.

She bristled visibly and turned her back to me.

I thought maybe I’d stepped over a line and had acted to familiar with her, but then she said:

“You just called me my husband’s ex-wife’s name.  My name is Lisa.”

I wanted to throw myself over the balcony and into the mass of rabid Eagles fans below.  Recovering a little, I apologized to Lisa.  Then she asked me why I was there.  I explained my transition situation, and then shared that I was looking for help in sharing my personal story.

“Everyone has a story,” she said coldly and matter of fact.  “What is so special about yours?”  It was rhetorical.  Lisa wasn't interested.

Maybe I need to go find Karen, I thought to myself...