Applying the Lesson

"Professor Anderson took a sabbatical of indeterminate duration. He can be reached by email while he's traveling." The MBA secretary looked at a list. "I can give you his email if you lost it."

"I have it. He's traveling?"

"We don't know where. He said he can't be reached at his former address and all his mail is going to a post office box."

"He gave me a 'D' on my project. It deserves better."

She shook her head. "I noticed that when he submitted his grades. Everyone else got a 'B.' What did you do to him?"

I stomped out and sent the Professor an angry email. "Is this morality? To shoot the messenger?"

A week later I got a reply. "Sorry. Your grade has been changed to 'A'." No other comment, no explanation. I was furious at him at the same time my heart was breaking for him. I had blindsided him and destroyed his family. No, that wasn't quite true. 'Mrs. Farber' had blindsided and destroyed him. Neither she or Mr. Farber ever showed their face again at the Balsam Fir Hotel.

I graduated near the top of my class and was rewarded with more shifts at work and a raise in salary of a little over a dollar per hour. Life plodded along. I missed the intellectual stimulation of school. I missed the companionship, the opportunity to meet people. It was hard to have a social life working five evenings a week. I was lonely, horny, and bored with the dreariness of it all. I was too proud for Tinder, or even the matchmaking apps. I aggressively followed job sites, submitting resumés, making Linked In connections, but a year later I was still at the same job, in the same apartment, tearing my hair out over the dullness of my life.

I was contemplating giving up the hotel job and going on a road trip. I started sounding out my friends, but no one seemed interested. They were happily married, in steady relationships or had work they loved. I might have been happier if I hadn't listened so carefully to Thomas Anderson's rants about morality, if I hadn't interfered in Mr. and Mrs. Farber's business meetings at the hotel. I was surprised to learn that Anderson's popularized version of The Soul of The Data Point had made it onto Amazon's business best seller list.

My mind was drifting to many places when a tall, affluently dressed middle aged woman came up to the front desk. She was giggling. "I'd like the Business Meeting Special, please." I glanced around; there seemed to be no one with her.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but those have to be booked online. They're subject to availability, which is quite limited."

"Oh." Her glee quickly faded.

"Perhaps we have another promotion that could serve you?"

"Such as?"

"We have a single-bed room, but with no desk or bathtub available for one night, for about the same price as the Business Meeting Special. And you get to stay all night."

She screwed up her face in concentration and then replied "I'll take it on one condition; that you give me twenty minutes of your time at the donut shop next door after you finish your shift."

I was baffled by the proposition but had nothing else to do besides go home to my loneliness. The donut shop was a public place, and I often went in there on my own after I was done work. With my boredom at life, the donuts were starting to show on my waistline. I couldn't see any harm in meeting her.

"I accept." I checked her in and verified her identification: Mrs. Ingrid Lampron. "Can I get you help with your bags?"

"I don't have any, thanks."

I blushed a bit, remembering that she had asked for the Business Meeting Special; those clients never had suitcases. I gave her the key card and promised to show up for a donut.

She was waiting at a table with two decaf coffees and two glazed chocolate coconut donuts, my favorite. We chatted about the weather, the community, the economy, all kinds of things. It took a while for me to realize it, but she had been surreptitiously grilling me about my education, my personal and career aspirations. I don't like to talk about such things with strangers, but somehow she drew me out. After about half an hour she pulled a manila envelope from her bag and handed it to me. "I'm satisfied, Dale. I think you're a good candidate. Colton Hotels would like to fly you down to Dallas next week, to interview for the position of Vice President of Analytics."

"Who, what... I mean—"

"You know my name from when I checked in. I'm with Jones, Lampron, the recruiting company. Are you familiar with what we do?"

I certainly was familiar. They were one of the most prestigious headhunting firms in the USA. "I submitted my resumé to you about half a year ago."

"I have it with me. Truthfully, there's nothing in it that jumps out. But you've been very highly recommended by someone we respect a lot."

"Really? Who?"

"I'm not allowed to say. But he requested I give you a letter from him." She slid a greeting card across the table to me.

I quickly opened envelope the envelope. The cover had a cartoon of gum, candies and magazines on a store shelf. In big letters were the words "Thank you."

The note was more personal. "You definitely have beautiful heart to go along with your 'definitely beautiful' appearance. You could have just ignored my problem but instead dealt with it with dignity and intelligence. I may not have appreciated it at the time, but I do now. I've told Ingrid that you can handle any situation you're faced with. Good luck!" He signed it "Love, Thomas A." I looked up at Mrs. Lampron.

"I was at one of Doctor Anderson's lectures and chatted with him afterwards. When I mentioned the position we were trying to fill, he told me he had someone, and dragged me off to a corner so I could listen to him praise you. He's a brilliant man, so how could we refuse his advice?"

How could I refuse the Colton Hotels interview? After spending an hour with the current head of their analytics department, and half an hour with John Colton himself I was offered the position at more than twice the salary I was now making. They would pay for the cost of relocation and assign people to help me find a new home in a new city.

When I was shown into my new office on the first day of work I was surprised to find someone already sitting in the visitor's chair at my desk. Strangely, the visitor's chair had been brought behind the desk, and was next to mine. Professor Anderson rose to embrace me, and I started to cry. He went and shut the door, giving us some privacy.

"You saved me, Dale. Making this connection was the least I can do for you."

I composed myself. "I did what I thought was the right thing, Professor."

"Thomas. I'm not a professor anymore."

"Thomas. You don't owe me anything. I don't want this job as a reward, just as—"

"You have the job because you will be terrific at it."

"...just as I didn't take the five thousand dollars from your wife—"

"Ex-wife"

"...from your ex-wife to keep quiet." A thought occurred to me. "Did you give the check to charity?"

"Nope. I wrote in the name of the law firm I used in the divorce. She paid my attorney's retainer. She found out I was divorcing her when she looked at her bank statement and saw the payee."

"What about Sasha and Tanya?"

"We have joint custody, but since I'm on the road a lot giving lectures, she has them most of the time. I hope I can change that soon."

"Planning to settle down?"

"Well maybe I can get a beautiful woman like you interested in spending some time with me. Can I start by taking you to dinner tonight?"

"How can I refuse a good-looking hunk like you?"

"You can't if you want a good grade from me."

We both laughed.

* * *

I did settle down. I proposed to Dale about six months after our reunion at her new office. She immediately accepted, and we found a nice home in a family-oriented neighborhood. It turns out that Julia's bi-weekly strategy conferences weren't the only shady activities her company was engaged in. Both Julia and Mr. Farber were charged with felony insider trading, and I took advantage of the apparent seediness of it all to convince a judge that Sasha and Tanya would be better off with me. Once I had them under Texas jurisdiction, it was a lock.

I was making enough money from my book that I didn't have to take a regular job. Combined with Dale's income from Colton, we were quite comfortable, and ready to expand our family.

When I taught the MBA seminar on The Individual in Analytics, I had emphasized the importance of a moral perspective. Dale took my words to heart, and as a result she ended up owning my heart. Doing the right thing indeed is its own reward.