A Man of Means

In a hurry, Jacoby presses the button signaling the elevator down as he slings his three button jacket across his shoulders while checking the status of his cross country flight from his phone. Quickly losing the signal as the elevator doors close, Jacoby slides the ultra sleek, do it all device into his right pant pocket. Having a few moments of pause descending from the 59th floor, Jacoby scanned the small chamber looking to make small talk.

Jacoby Allen Kincaid was a pro at working a crowd. Jacoby is to rapport building as Twain is to Americana. The ability to find something in common with those he met was his speciality. Meeting people was an exercise of networking, a regimen where strangers do not exist and fatigue never comes. Thus his ascent to the high rise of success as an executive in the advertising business. A man of messages with a circle of influence unlike any who has shared his name.

The elevator lunges downward as Jacoby notices the man standing next to him in a pair of black, single strap Sergio Rossi's. This Italian shoe maker was a customer, and a good one, committing significant sums to high gloss, upscale magazine ads and a championship tennis sponsorship.

"Hey, nice shoes," Jacoby insists, turning his shoulders squarely toward the man.

Put off by the random compliment, the man stretches a smile and nods.

"My name is Kincaid and I work upstairs. Love to get your opinion on those shoes for an ad campaign my team is developing."

"Listen, I'm late for a meeting," the man responds, obviously annoyed with friendly chatter. He straightens his tie and tunnels his stare into the mirrored elevator doors shutting down any indication of his interest to talk.

Jacoby leans forward and in a confident tone says, "No problem, we can meet for lunch next week." Reaching into his jacket pocket, Jacoby grabs a card and steps forward presenting it to the man in the fancy shoes. "If you're not happy with the comfort or look of the pair your wearing", clinching his jaw with inquisitive eyes, "tell me and I'll ensure your complete satisfaction."

Sensing something for nothing, the man takes his hand out of his pocket, accepts the card and smiles. "Yea, how about I call you next week?"

"I'll look forward to it," says Jacoby reaching to shake his hand.

As the handshake consummated the business exchange the bell toned and the doors to the 23rd floor opened. The fancy shoe man, who suddenly felt empowered, exited as others rushed onto the platform.