That’s why I have so much respect for Robyn; she is confident, but yet open and effective. She is able to get what she wants without sounding like a first-rate bitch. She doesn’t know that I have appointed her my mentor.
Maybe Marcus is right; I should ask Robyn about attending the pitch. She probably just assumed that I was going—and assumed that I assumed that I was going. Before chickening out, I knock on Robyn’s office door, opening it after hearing a voice call out “come in”. Robyn and Paul are sitting at the round office table, notepads, and planners in front of them.
“I’m glad that you’re both here,” I say. “I was hoping to speak with you about the Virginia Tourism pitch. I, uh, I know that both of you will be presenting, but I wanted to see about attending the meeting as well.”
I watch Paul and Robyn exchange glances; I am not sure how to interpret them.
“We already have four people going; we don’t want to overwhelm them with too many people,” Paul answers.
“Four people?” I repeat. I look at Robyn for confirmation. “Who else is going?”
“Jack and Spencer from the creative team.”
My mouth drops wide open; there are no words for what I am feeling. Well, there are, but they are not acceptable to say out loud and would probably result in me being fired.
“But it was my idea,” I blurt out. I probably sound like a petulant child, pitching a fit but I don’t care—at least not at this point. I am sure that there will be a lot of second-guessing later.
I turn to Robyn again, pleading to her with my eyes. I want to telepathically ask her what happened to girl-power, fairness, and common decency. It must have worked because Robyn speaks up to say: “Ashley should attend. It was her idea and she deserves to go, especially with all the hard work and hours that she’s been putting in. I’ll talk to Spencer; I’m sure he’ll be fine with not attending.”
I thank Robyn, keeping my focus on her. I can feel Paul’s annoyance burning into my profile.
WHEN SATURDAY MORNING rolls around, I am exhausted and tempted to skip my Taekwondo class. It’s been a week since I’ve gone; the last class I attended was the morning after seeing Logan on a date. I am not sure which will be worse—the soreness from not being in class for a week or the awkwardness of seeing Logan.
But, part of me wants to see Logan. I am curious about how he will act around me. It will be uncomfortable, yes, but I did manage to maintain my dignity while giving him a way out of our date. Of course, part of me wonders if he has interpreted my missed classes as being related to him. I need him to know that my absence was work-related and not Logan-related.
“Were you sick?” one of my classmates asks when I arrive. It is nice to feel noticed.
“No, just really busy at work,” I answer while quickly removing my shoes to place them in one of the cubicles.
Logan is sitting on the floor and stretching his legs when I walk into the classroom. I decide to walk over and say hello in order to remove any possible awkwardness between us. It’s important for me to appear unaffected about our canceled date so that he knows that there are no hard feelings. I have my pride after all.
“Hello,” I say to Logan who looks surprised to see me. I plop down next to him and begin stretching. I can tell that he is gauging my temperament to determine how best to act around me. The ball is now in my court, which does give me a little satisfaction.
“It’s good to see you,” Logan answers.
“I’ve been busy at work. We have this big pitch coming up, so I’ve had to work a lot of long hours.” There, I am able to work that in—making it clear that my absence has nothing to do with him.
“Partners?” I ask, once again to his surprise, making him seem even more uncomfortable.
“Um, sure,” he answers.
The class begins with Master Kim instructing us to get into Ready stance while he demonstrates the roundhouse kick. When commanded, each of us attempts to emulate Master Kim’s kick. Turning my hip and raising my knee, I pivot my body so that I can kick my leg in a snapping motion only to struggle with my balance. Logan doesn’t fare well either; it is fun watching him wobble about—lifting then putting down, and then lifting his leg again.
After watching the class’ inept efforts at the demonstrated roundhouse, Master Kim recommends that we use the balancing bar in the back of the room to practice. I hold tight to the bar, recalling memories of childhood ballet classes with pliés and relevés. I try incorporating the graceful moves of my early ballet days into my roundhouse, which seems to help.
“Quick, quick, snap your kick. Your kick needs to be quick,” Master Kim instructs when observing my roundhouse.
“Lift your leg, now turn your hips,” Master Kim says to Logan while lifting his leg in a frog-like pose.
“Oh, if only I had a camera,” I snicker over at Logan who looks flustered.
The session continues with all of us performing a succession of kicks up and down the room. I am certain to be a sore the next day, but the pain will be worth it—the end of class involves practicing our newfound skills on each other. With Logan as my partner, I am ready. I lift, pivot, snap, and bam—right on Logan’s butt.
“Ouch!” Logan says loudly.
“Sorry, did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to kick that hard.”
“Are you sure about that?” Logan says with a laugh, rubbing his butt as he speaks.
Who knew one roundhouse kick could cause so many different emotions? At first, I feel a devilish sense of satisfaction—maybe I did kick Logan a little harder than necessary. Then, I feel relief, sensing that Logan and I will be able to get back on track after the awkwardness of our potential date.
But then . . . regret. Logan, for the first time since being in class together, doesn’t ask me to join him afterward for a post-class smoothie. All I get from Logan is a ‘see you later’.
...
9
Think Small
Volkswagen defied the odds by coming to market in 1959 when large, fast, and luxurious automobiles were the rage. Volkswagen was anything but. Manufactured in Germany fifteen years after War World II, Volkswagen took the risk of selling its car in America when purchasing anything from (Nazi) Germany was considered taboo. Rather than advertising the car as something it wasn’t, Volkswagen’s agency of record, DDB, took an honest approach. In simple black and white advertisements with lots of white space, a photo of the Volkswagen was featured. Headlines included “Think Small” or “It’s Ugly But It Gets You There” which were instrumental in rolling out a surprisingly truthful and effective campaign.
“LOOKING SHARP,” MARCUS says to me as I walk into the office on Monday. Sarcasm and brotherly ribbing aside, I can always count on Marcus for a morale boost. I’d never admit it to him—I can’t have him getting a big head—but I value his friendship and do think Gretchen is lucky to have him. I’ve heard him on the phone with her. He tries to put on a sarcastic front, but he’s actually a sentimental sap. His tone and demeanor changes when he talks to her, becoming this sweet and loving fiancée.
“Thank you,” I respond. “Today’s the pitch and I’m a nervous wreck.”