DNL #3 - How to Ride in an Elevator

(This is part of my five part "Date Night Lessons" series dedicated to our first date night in like, a really freaking long time).

For Previous Lessons, Refer to:
DNL#1 - How Much Do You Pay a Babysitter?
DNL#2 - How to Roll When Someone "Comps" You


So we finally made it to Mr. Crocker's party, which was in full swing, but was surprisingly, a little less rowdy than I expected. Don't get me wrong, I know it was Mr. Crocker's 70th and all and I didn't expect anybody to be doing body shots or keg stands or anything like that.

But I DID expect Mr. Crocker to be cutting up a rug, because he loves, loves, loves to dance.

But the dance floor was kind of empty. I will get to THAT in tomorrow's post.

So we walk in and go around hugging and greeting everybody. I was a little tipsy from dinner so I guess I was being a little "Chatty Cathy". Within a few minutes, I run into one of Liz's cousins - Barbara.

Now, Barbara is an amazingly accomplished woman. She is a loving wife and mother and daughter. She is also a very, very respected businesswoman, a former CEO at huge companies that we all know and serves on the Board of Directors for several large companies we all have experience with in some form today.

Basically, like Forbes Magazine "top lists" successful.

And she is really, REALLY nice.

I started chatting with her and given my propensity to babble on when I am tipsy, told her about my own frustrations with working in technology and feeling like I have to claw my way towards middle management, in a sea of very few women and with very few women role models.

As she empathized with me and gave me some sound advice, I found myself blurting out, "Barbara, would you ever be open to mentoring me? I would love to learn from some of what you have seen . . . "

Even as I was saying this, I realized how stupid I sounded. I blamed this on the wine from dinner. Better yet, I will just blame this on Jamie (since nobody knows who the heck she/he is anyway).

I was ready for the rejection and for her to laugh in my face. For her to tell me how she didn't have time for someone at my level, and that she was in another playing field than me. I was already ready to just throw my drink in the air, yell "Fire!" and run out the door and hope she forgot about our conversation.

But you know what she said? It was one of those amazingly wonderful and inspiring things that I plan to hold in my back pocket to pull out on rainy days. The kind of thing that one day, I hope I have enough wisdom to say.

"Kiran, when I was a young businesswoman, and just starting out, there was a woman Executive who worked at my company. One day, I was in an elevator with her and she didn't even LOOK at me. She knew who I was, but it was beneath her, on some level, to even acknowledge me."

At this point, Barbara looked me in the eyes and said, "I vowed to myself then that no matter how successful or even unsuccessful I ever became, that I would never treat another woman like that. That I would always acknowledge her on my elevator."

And then came the clincher:

"I would love to go on an elevator ride with you."

So there you have it. I know that Barbara is an amazing woman and I hope to someday learn more about her experiences - I am sure she has some incredible stories to tell and she broke through the glass ceiling that many women still struggle to fight through with her intelligence, drive and integrity.

But even if I don't get to have that opportunity with her, I will always be grateful for that very gracious and very humble lesson.

Lesson Learned:
I never want to become that other woman on the elevator. No matter how jaded, tired, disenchanted, superior or whatever it is that I may feel at some point in my life - I never want to become that woman.

If I ever do anything that indicates I have broken this vow that I am making today, I invite every one of you friends and readers to send me a big bitch slap over email and remind me what we all need to remember - that everyONE of us deserves respect.

Except maybe Jamie.

And there is always room for each one of you on my elevator. Always. Not that you're all running to catch it. You're probably hanging around in the back being like "Oh, that's ok. I'll just get the next one." Which is cool too.

Thanks for your graciousness, Barbara.