This Blog Writer Is Ready to Confess
The story I am about to tell is full of intrigue and danger. I can tell you, without a doubt, it happened. I know because I was there.
It started innocently. The date was about seven years ago. I had arranged a meeting to network with a potential client. As a freelance writer I often gained business through these one-on-one meetings.
I will continue because I must.
We met at a local diner. The woman was about ten years my junior. Neither one of us was in much of a rush. After several minutes of polite conversation, we arrived at the proverbial fork in the road. It was clear we had no way to contribute to each other’s business.
Should our conversation continue, or was it time to get the check?
Anyone who knows me, knows I love conversation. I think it’s fun, and a great way to learn about others and the world around me.
So there, at the fork, there was a choice. Should I go down that dangerous path? I wasn’t sure but ventured on.
I will call her “Audrey.” Partially to protect her identity, and wholly because I don’t remember her name.
In the brief time we had together, Audrey and I agreed on a lot, but we definitely didn’t agree on government or politics. There, I said it.
Little comments could have been ignored or have a spotlight put on them.
What to do?
If we were both standing on opposing cliffs, there couldn’t have been a deeper chasm between us. There was no room for compromise. I had never been in a situation quite like this before.
Should I get up and run? Of course not.
Should I text some friends and have them unexpectedly “drop by?” Nope.
Should I politely ask for the check? Possibly, but that’s no fun.
What’s a person to do?
Be brave.
I took the leap and said, “I don’t think I have to point out we clearly have opposing political beliefs. Would you like to have a conversation about them? I have some questions, and I would like to tell you why I feel the way I do.”
As I thought she might, Audrey smiled and agreed.
What followed was a delicious lunch and one-and-a-half hours of spirited debate. We didn’t agree on much, but we both did our best to hear out the other and explain our own sides.
The treacherous results.
Did we change each other’s mind? No.
Did we each learn a little? Probably.
Did we walk away as enemies? No. In fact, we hoped to continue our discussion at another lunch (although this never happened.)
Did we secretly hypnotize the other, ensuring a pre-programmed vote in the next general election? Um . . . I don’t think so.
Did we both make a new friend in this world? Absolutely.
Was any harm done? You tell me.
Why did I leave the state?
I have since moved to another state, so I don’t see Audrey anymore. Are you wondering, was I forced to enter the witness protection program . . . after all, I did consort with the enemy?
Er . . . no. it was more about being closer to family.
And so, I am here in Pennsylvania continuing my life as a freelance writer. Dare I take such scandalous action again? I don’t know.
It takes two. And I’m only one.
How about you? Are you one, too?