The Guy with the Stupid Shoes

Michelle took me to a charity benefit for the Leukemia Society this weekend at some rich guy’s house.

When we got there, Michelle went to talk to her friend and I walked down onto the lawn where people were milling around drinking wine. Some middle-aged guy in an argyle sweater and stupid black loafers saw me and said, “Karma?”

I just looked at him.

He repeated, “Karma?”

I said, “I don’t know what that means.”

He said, “Are you from karma?”

I said, “Look. I don’t know what you’re talking about. If just shouting Karma is some kind of new greeting they only use in Bel Air, then ‘karma’ right back at you.”

He said, “Oh, sorry. I thought you were from the Karma Foundation.”

I said, “When did you figure out that I wasn’t? After the third time I said I didn’t know what you were talking about?”

He didn’t laugh. I offered a handshake and said, “I’m Fletcher. I’m here with Michelle.” He shook my hand but didn’t say his name. I think I was supposed to already know what his name was because I later found out it was his house.

I did speak to quite a few people. My repertoire of opening lines and small talk came in handy. A lot of “How do you know _____?” and “What brings you here today?” The latter is a good opening line because it’s so ambiguous that the person can answer pretty much however they want.

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