Listen, I have nothing to tell you…

I was 30 minutes late for meeting the other day and when I got there, my rendez-vous was visibly annoyed. To my great relief, after fumbling through a few poor communication-related excuses, he seemed to get over it and we sat down promptly. He then launched into a barrage of questions. Time flew by. As we had had only one hour booked, at the end of the conversation, he got up, and said, “It was great seeing you. Good luck with everything. Talk soon.”

At this point, looking up at him from my chair, I wanted to ask him a question. And how was he? What was new on his side? What was interesting in his space? How was his family…? He shrugged and muttered something like, “Another time…”

The funny thing is, I felt like I was missing out. Maybe he had more interesting things to tell me that I had had for him?

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