“Today? Wednesday? Friday?”
“How about Wednesday, Luis?”
Luis is our cleaning man. Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday he pops into the office and proceeds like clockwork to dust, sweep and wipe his way into abandon. He’s very unassuming, barely speaks a lick of English and, standing at five feet tall, reminds me of what my grandfathers would have probably looked like had I knew them.
“Today? Friday? Monday?”
“Not today; Monday please? Thank you, Luis.”
Today he’s here, ready to wipe down my desk. I am too busy with work and politely decline, like always.
I’ve never said ‘no’ to someone more times than I have to Luis. He will never realize it, but he has greatly shaped the way I approach dating in New York City. It is through him that I’ve learned how to say ‘no’ with the complications of passive-aggressive Seattle flavor that has plagued my speech the past 25 years.
He has, in a sense, become my accidental dating and life coach.
