The Situation: Kevin wanted to set me up with his father's financial advisor, whom he befriended. Kevin said, by way of explanation, "He's a good person, you're a good person. I thought maybe you'd get along." Kevin brought his girlfriend, who works in the film industry, and set it up as if it were a networking thing. We met at Soho House in the Meatpacking District. A strictly "no suits" zone.
Vital Stats: Mid-30s, 5'8"ish, Recently Divorced, Three Kids, Recently Moved to NYC. Aesthetic: Financial Guy Attempting "Casual." Demeanor: Vapid, Vaguely Milquetoasty."
First Impression: Meeting him elicited no enthusiasm. See: Vaguely Milquetoasty.
Signs of Hope: He asked me one question. When my answer revealed I couldn't help him networking-wise, he ignored me.
Red Flags: As it so happened, he really was there just for the networking, which turned out to be a good thing because I knew from the moment I met him I wasn't interested. But other than briefly "networking" about his interest in the film biz, he proceeded to go on and on and on about his recent divorce, philosophizing on why his marriage didn't work out. A summary: He came to a decision that even though the last two years of his marriage were probably the best years, he suddenly realized it wasn't gong to get any better than that. His wife was angry. She was poisoning the kids against him. But the marriage had run it's course, he'd decided. There's got to be more than this, he thought. He was big on making sure we knew the divorce was his doing.
Turning Point: It started out bad but then it got worse. Not only did he go on and on about himself, but he did it in this sort of bland but unstoppable monotone. Every time he opened his mouth, I wanted to rip my eyes out. And yet, I couldn't escape. I kept thinking, "I have to get out of here," but I couldn't move. It was like I was trapped in pot-induced paralysis, except I'd been nowhere near pot for eight years.
Diagnosis: If I do say so myself, #112 appears to be something of a self-important egotist. If that's redundant, it's meant to be.
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