It’s interesting, I think, how a life course can take significant twists and turns based on chance meetings or seemingly small decisions made along the way? To wit:

After graduating from State University of New York at Binghamton, or SUNY Binghamton (now called more simply and sanely Binghamton University), I landed a job at Dun & Bradstreet in Manhattan. Many Long Islanders follow that path: College at an upstate university then a job in Manhattan, commuting from the suburbs. The commuting part is mandatory because of the ridiculous cost of living in Manhattan. Like many, I drove a few miles to a train station, boarded the Long Island Railroad for an hour or so trip into Manhattan, connected with a Subway ride, then walked a few blocks to the office. Took about 2 hours one way and about half of my pay. The trains were cold in winter and hot in summer. People in suits and dresses with a 50/50 chance they’d even get a seat! And thousands do it each and every working day. I remember looking up into the dead eyes of the 50 year old men who had been doing this for decades as I promised myself that I absolutely, positively would not be doing this very long.

So the job…D& B is a financial services company that specifically hires non-finance majors into their entry-level positions so they can train them in their own brand of financial analysis. My job was to analyze the financial condition of specific corporations and provide a recommendation on their health and credit-ability. Subscribing companies would “pull a D&B report” to see the ratings we gave a company before shipping product and extending credit to a potential customer. A poor credit decision with a company who defaults could cost a company thousands, if not millions, so our reports were critical to their decisions. I would often marvel that the ratings applied by the twenty or so jabrone D&B Credit Analysts in their 20s and 30s working in a large open room were being relied upon to make decisions that moved the economy along.  Anyway, the job was a good one, but I still struggled to pay $7 for lunch at the corner hot dog stand, but loved that I could eat it in Central Park; a true wonder of the world; or sit on the edge of a fountain and watch the crowd, or read the messages as they scrolled along the Radio City Music Hall marquee. But after about a year of dictating reports into a tape recorder for transcription by the secretarial pool (really!), I was getting bored.

One day I heard that some of the sales people were in town and they were getting together at a bar later that night. I finagled my way to an invitation and joined the group at a classic Manhattan watering hole called The Blarney Stone. I really enjoyed talking with the sales people, most of whom were much older than me. Importantly, I was introduced to the National Sales Director and we all had a fine time. After the third bar, I missed all the trains back to Long Island so they hooked me up with a co-worker I did not know, and we both stumbled onto a Subway to make our way to Brooklyn where I slept in a chair for a few hours, showered and wore the same clothes into work the next day. I’m sure I was not very productive that day, but the following week I was called into the Sales Director’s office on another floor. To my surprise, he had a job offer for me. They were expanding the sales force in the Chicago area and wanted to know if I would be interested! Seems that after the long night out, he had done some homework and spoken to my boss and several associates. Fortunately, they had good things to say, and he felt I would be a great addition to a sales force that needed “fresh young faces with renewed spirit” (discriminatory now?)

The offer included a significant raise in pay, quarterly bonus, brand new company car and an expense account. Now, I never really aspired to a career in sales but the reality of the world was becoming clear to me: “Nothing Happens Until Somebody Sells Something” is not just a trite motivational slogan. It is absolutely true, and the image I had of salespeople, largely built through literature like Death of a Salesman, and their portrayal on TV and in movies as fast-talking shysters, was simply outdated. The professional sales people I had met, and would continue to meet, were well-appointed, strong communicators with confident and assertive personalities, with a strong bent toward positivity.

So I had a decision to make, although it wasn’t very difficult. I could continue to live in my parent’s basement, commuting 4 hours a day to a job that had grown boring, rarely seeing my friends during the week because they all had similar schedules, and saving very little money. OR I could explore a new life and career in a place I had never visited before, with higher pay and a company car. No-brainer, except for my girlfriend of several years looming in the background. The opportunity forced me to admit that, although very pretty and very sweet, she probably was not the right person for the rest of my life. So the move forced me to do what I should have done sooner.

A few short weeks later I loaded all my worldly possessions into the new company car and headed west. It was quite the adventure and I wouldn’t change a thing, but as I sit here writing this, it’s impossible not to wonder what my life would have been like if I had not made that fateful decision to join the sales guys for a drink on that random Thursday evening.

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