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Breaking Up is Hard on Everyone

The bank attorney was surly for no apparent reason. I was prepared, my clients were polite, and the numbers worked out, yet I felt a stream of nastiness directed just towards me. His demands to me were clipped, his responses quite snipped, and only my professional façade kept him from seeing my finger flipped.

I wondered, did he treat me so rudely because I was the only woman in the room, or was there some long-forgotten deal in which he’d been burned (and he blamed it on me)? After we closed, I followed him towards the back of his closing offices, and asked him point-blank, “Why so brusque? Do we have some history I’ve erased from my memory?”

“What? No, no, no,” he snapped. “You just look like my horrid soon-to-be-ex-wife. Was I rude to you?”

When I said that he was very impolite, he laughed and just turned away to get a cup of coffee.

I didn’t blow my stack because I thought we’d cross paths again. However, we never did — a title closer told me that the bad-mannered lout “lost everything in his divorce and went to work in his parents’ hardware store in Minnesota.”

That’s better payback than I’d have scripted, karma. Nice work.

 

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