Me. the Big Man, and more Waffle Houses than you can shake a stick at

There we were, at a Waffle House somewhere between Atlanta and Birmingham. As we gorged ourselves over All Star breakfasts, I knew I had found my role model. He had hired me but I always thought he gave me more credit than he should and maybe I gave him les sthan deserved. We sat there and the conversations turned to our fathers and their immigrant experience. The conversation got heavy and after a while he just sorta looked up and said "this is great country, ain't it" breathed for a minute and then started talking. We were kindred spirits he and I. We were guys who kept trying to piss in the tall grass till everyone got too tired of chasing us away, he and I are the type of guys that don't understand no, guys that don't so much ask for things as much as encouraging people to give it over willingly. Failing that we're the type of guys that will just fucking take it, shit all over whoever tried to fuck us and turn it into a great story, where our antagonist is left somewhere eating shit. That's him, and that me and that's what brought us to this point right here, this waffle house in the middle of fucking nowhere.

I got a little nervous, because right there, there was some concern that he might grab my hand, slice my palm, slice his, slap our hands together, and declare us true blood brothers.

He brought me along to drive the car and keep him on schedule. He brought me along to pretend to be his EA, in anticipation of the day, 3-5 years from now, where he'll call on me to do it for real, and not just a few for a few weeks. I had done a piss poor job up till this point. I had nearly gotten us run over by a speeding tractor trailor as a I cut across a 8 lane highway. I had nearly put us under another tractor trailor and of course there was that episode with the off ramp where the laptop, and the cell phone flew across the car during his conference call and he cussed a storm to everyone he could find and asked openly on the call (after recovering)

"anyone remember driving their third line manager around and not knowing where to drive and not know where he was going and actively trying to get him and yourself killed?"

A chorus of folks, all of whom actively try to curry his favor regularly, shared a hearty laugh at my expense, haha, the most favored son has some chinks in his armor after all. I hated them all, just for that one moment. When the anger passed, I took note of who the assholes were that laughed the loudest or maybe tried to be witty. I quickly added the to the mental list of "people I need to fuck over the second I get a chance".

But this guy, man, what a sight to see. The guy was a human fucking dynamo...We hit 5 clients in 3 days. Always be Closing is the motto, and he always was. Me, I was driving, I got the driving straight, I got the time straight, I did a good job making sure everyone had everything they needed. We had a system, everytime he waved his hands incessantly, I knew to stop at a waffle house. Everytime he smacked me in the back of the head, I knew I had just done something inappropriate, like use the word "brain fart" with a southern lady.

Every once in a while, I wondered if I had gotten an MBA just so I could do this, So I could watch someone else drive all the action while I drove the friggin car...maybe...then I wondered "is there anywhere else I'd rather be?"