The Master

I am in the midst of attending a CASE conference in Fort Worth. This is a conference for those in Advancement - the fundraisers, marketing directors, and alumni peeps of the world. On the first day of the conference, during one of the sessions, I chose a seat on the very back row in the very last chair — the closest to the back corner of the room. This is my typical seat of choice as I deem it the most inconspicuous chair in the room.

I like it that way.

When I attend conventions or fly on airplanes, it is the way I roll. I’m not too interested in forging new friendships or swapping personal information with someone I will never see again.

I know. It’s not the friendliest way of living. But I usually have my book, some sort of journal, and my headspace. And that’s quite enough for me.

Anyway, on this particular day and at this particular session, I was quietly hanging out in my seat, an empty chair beside me, as the meeting was about to begin. The room was filled sporadically - lots of empty chairs in the front and such. However, with the exception of the chair beside me, my row was totally full. Clearly lots of people prefer the back row.

Just as the doors closed and the session began, I spied a man out of the corner of my eye heading my direction.

And I instantly knew: despite the plethora of empty seats in front of me, he was headed my way: for the seat next to me.

I was instantly annoyed.

Clearly he wasn’t interested in the abundance of seats that offered elbow room and space to breathe. 

And then, just that quickly, he was beside me, offering a smile and a nod at the coveted chair, squeezing by as I turned my legs to provide a little extra room, and then settling in beside me. And as I figured would happen, once he leaned back he was all up in my business. I grabbed the edges of my chair, and not so subtly, shifted my seat so that I could at least lean back without my elbows directly hanging out with his. And then, as he quickly engaged with the presentation happening at the front of the room, I took a moment to scope him out. He was older - possibly in his 70’s, and reminded me a bit of a mouse. He was slightly hunched over, balding…but when he glanced over at me, he tossed me a rather engaging smile.

And despite the fact he forced me to give up my personal space, I liked him immediately.

The next morning, I hustled into one of the breakout rooms deemed for alumni directors and quickly found my seat - the same one in the back corner. I pulled out my moleskin - my all-time favorite notebook that I am never without - and my black pen - the one with gel that writes smoothly - and settled back for an hour of how to engage alumni that aren’t engaged and don’t care to be. 

And then I saw him.

There, at the very front of the room, waiting patiently in the presenter’s chair, sat my seat partner of the day before.

I chuckled to myself.

And sure enough - as he was introduced, it was clear that my seat partner was a hair bit more accomplished than I will ever be. 

Clearly he was the rockstar of alumni directors.

I should have been offering my own seat rather than feeling chagrin that he sat next to me.

I should have been seeking pearls of wisdom from the master.

Naturally.

Because isn’t that the way it goes?