[Deadbug]

On occasion... ok... most occasions, I tend to open my mouth without thinking about what's about to come out. More often than not, this very habit gets me in trouble. Today was no exception to the norm!

My husband and I both have our own separate lives, our own separate companies and we just kinda do our own thing. As you know, I'm an interior designer. I do more in the line of structural design than actual finishing touches. My pallet usually starts with removing wall, replacing partitions or redesigning interior structures like fireplaces, etc. I'll sit down with clients and toss ideas all over the place, sketch out what I envision and work from there. Most of my clients already own their home and just want a change. Some have just purchased an existing home and want to make some adjustments. Then there are those who are building a home and consult with me in that process. This is where my architectural background is handy.

My husband is a landscaper. He's owned the company for 21 years now. Most of the time he does pretty well but over the past 3 years things have been a little slower than we'd like. Instead of running 5 crews working on various job sites, he's been managing only 3. For a guy, this is pretty tremendous blow to the ego. Me, I tend to think a little more optimistically. At least you still have a job, right?

So I have this one client who's name is Bob. He's a developer and I get quite a few of my design clients from him. I call him "Bob the Builder." I'd say in the past 6 months I've scored upwards of 30 clients from him. These are people who are building a new home and starting fresh. I like those. I don't have to "fix" anything the previous owners or builders did to get to where I want to be.

Anyway... "Bob the Builder" is a big, strapping burly man. You know... a manly kinda man. 3/4 of his blood is testosterone, complete with the mid 40's beer gut and a beard. My hubby is "Mr. Prada sunglasses". He's a fashionable "metro" kinda character who thinks he more manly than he really is. Ego's play into this, so I tend to approach things delicately. Case and point: He once asked me if I thought he was gaining weight. It was mid winter and he was rather dormant for 2 months. Without thinking, I responded with "You might have put on a few pounds." Total devastation. He didn't speak to me for 2 weeks. Ooof! You'd think I'd learn. I use the fact that I'm over 40 as an excuse these days. Brain cells and their occupancy are at a premium and I can't be expected to predict the outcome of every scenario. None the less, he let up and stopped pouting 2 weeks later when I lied and said it looked like he was toning up a little bit and inquired what he'd been doing differently. That prompted the 30 minutes of flexing in the bathroom mirror, admiring himself from all angles and later he emerged with a rather pleased and contented look on his face. My life then got back to normal.

Today I got the brilliant idea of introducing my hubby to "Bob the Builder." It was a still a good idea, however, the way I executed it wasn't exactly well thought out. Bear in mind this is one of my best clients, so first impressions are imperative here. We make the 45 minute drive to Saratoga Springs all the while talking about everything other than what we're going there for. The job site was a dirt lot and the house was in mid construction. This also happens to be one of my clients we're going to see, but Bob was my target.

We park the truck and get out. As I'm standing there adjusting my hair in the reflection of the truck, I catch Bob walking across the field toward us. Not thinking I quickly look to my husband and say "Chris, whatever you do DON'T act like a wuss around this guy." Then I thought about what I just said. I waited... bracing myself as best as I could for the attack, took a deep breath and look him in the eyes.

Total shock and horror.

The "I can't believe you just said that look" was painful, not only for me, but obviously for him as well. In one fell swoop I just destroyed any chances of a peaceful, romantic evening occurring between us for the next eleven thousand years.

The look... oh my gosh... the look! Bob was still quite a distance away. that sarcastic impromptu anger sets in. He looks at me and says "Alright Gina. I won't. I won't act like a wuss around this guy. I'll just go around to the back of the truck, act like a wuss there and come out when I'm done. Maybe later I can find another guy to act like a wuss around but I can assure you I won't act like a wuss around THIS guy!"

Deep cleansing breath.
More deep breathing.
Screw it... get me an oxygen tank.

My life... as I know it... is essentially over.

At this point, I'm intimately familiar with the powerful, humming a Chevy Silverado 2500 truck engine makes. It's the only thing I heard on what seemed like an eternal drive home.

I'm certainly dead after that one.

The good news is, Bob plans to hire him for future jobs!