Listen to Life: Sold

SOLD

The other day I laid my gray suit to rest. It was ten years old, and, despite its worn condition, it was the best of the three I had. I knew it was time to get a new suit or two, and Men’s Wearhouse was having its fall sale. A perfect opportunity to deal with the business at hand, though only out of necessity instead of desire. Saturday was errand/chore day, and shopping for clothes seemed to fit that criterion, as did an evening trek to a presentation in the Galleria. The two experiences could not have been more different.

An hour after our arrival at the Men’s Wearhouse, my fiancé and I left the store. I had a lot more than I intended, and felt good about it. No buyer’s remorse there. The evening event, a follow on to the big Bridal Extravaganza last week, proved to be quite different. We didn’t buy anything, and if we had, there would certainly have been buyer’s remorse. As we left the evening presentation, she said, “I just wasn’t feeling it.” Feelings hold the root of both situations.

Why did I spend more than twice what I had intended with Clifford at the Baybrook Men’s Wearhouse? Because I felt good in the clothes and I felt good about myself and I felt good about his advice. I told him as we prepared to leave that I had not much cared about my attire for a long time: adequate appearance was plenty fine for me. I didn’t worry about looking good. But, I felt good in the clothes he selected on only his first and third tries off the rack. He bantered with me and Kim as I tried on suits and pants. He didn’t talk to us like a salesman, but like people, and when he had me replace my running shoes for nice Bostonians “just for measuring the pant length,” I told him that I knew what he was doing, but that he did what he did well: create a sense of well being. I bought the shoes, too. The evening salesperson went from showman to snip in the moment we said we were interested in something smaller than he had in mind.

Clifford was attentive, playing off the cues of what I said, and of what Kim said when I was in the dressing room. He had no idea how welcome the chance to look good was for me.

We never know the state of the people we interact with. We never know how open or desirous they may be for a sincere compliment, a moment of attentiveness, a minute of listening, or a chance to share stories. Assume it will make a difference. It probably will.

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Listen to Life is an electronic newsletter that presents lessons for living by listening to life, based on the writing, poetry, photography, presentations and workshops of Dion McInnis. Stories such as these inspired the book, “Listen to Life: Wisdom in Life’s Stories,” published in 2005, available at Barnes and Noble, Amazon and Borders. Dion’s next book will share his views of being father and son.

To subscribe, send an email to: addnewsletter@dionmcinnis.com. To be removed from the subscription list, send email to:unsubscribe@dionmcinnis.comWeb link: www.dionmcinnis.com© 2007 Dion McInnis. All rights reserved.We encourage sharing Listen to Life in whole or in part if copyright and attribution are always included.
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