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I’m Like Mike?

The client drew a pack of cigarettes out from her purse. “You don’t mind, do you?” she asked.  “This whole business of selling my house is stressing me out.”

I wanted to stay on her good side at all costs, as a) my job is to protect, not alienate, clients, and b) she hadn’t written out my retainer check yet.  However, I detest all things nicotine, and I certainly didn’t want the stench lingering in my office long after she calmed herself down. So I said, “I do mind. I can wait a few minutes while you step outside for a quick smoke, but I can’t have you smoking in here.”

She gave me one of the most insincere smiles that I have ever seen, and said, “Thanks, then, but I’ll wait. Between you and Michael Bloomberg, nobody is allowed to do what they want to anymore.”

In what universe am I in the same category as Michael Bloomberg? She could have wheeled in a 100-ounce soda in a gigantic cup and I wouldn’t have said “boo!”

 

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