Page 5 of Collin: Episodes 1-3
Damian smirked and shook himself, shape-shifting back into who he had been when Collin first met him—a successful big city attorney.
“That’s where I grew up. First in the South, as in Mississippi, then in the South Side here.”
“I couldn’t understand a thing you said.”
Damian chuckled, but his eyes were dark. “I bet you didn’t. That’s called code switching. It’s how you present yourself. All the subtle signals that we use to tell other people whether or not we belong somewhere. I bet you do it yourself without even knowing it. Like you’re someone else around your family but different at school.”
“I mean, yes? A bit. But isn’t everyone?”
“Most people, yes.” Damian stirred the boba balls in his drink and caught one in the end of his straw. “Knowing the right signals to send when is something that Mr. Reevesworth can teach you. I certainly didn’t have a father who knew how to code like an attorney.”
“It shouldn’t matter, though.”
“It does, though. And some of it should matter.” Damian moved his head from side to side, lips scrunched up. “Think of it this way. If I showed up using a speech pattern that told people I knew my way around cows in Montana, would they trust me with their financial due diligence, or would they trust me with cows?”
“Cows.” Collin took a sip of his boba tea. He’d gone with regular. It wasn’t bad. Not really his thing but not bad.
Damian nodded. “Sending the right signals doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with the color of my skin. That’s a big barrier to get over in some parts. I won’t lie. I have stories. But even someone who is inclined to trust someone of any skin color isn’t going to trust me with their financial dealings unless I present as someone who has spent time in the financial world. If I don’t present like someone who knows what they are doing, if I can’t signal the subconscious part of a potential client’s mind that I’m trustworthy, I won’t be their attorney. And of course, that means different signaling for different groups. What works in Mississippi doesn’t necessarily work here. And what works in Shanghai doesn’t always go down well in Riyadh. And what works to build trust in a Japanese community isn’t necessarily going to be what signals competency in an Israeli community.”
Collin gripped the fabric of his pants. “You sound like you’ve been through all this.”
Damian inclined his head. “You would be correct.”
Collin looked away. “And this has helped you?”
“Yes.”
“No one does something for free. What has it cost you?”
Damian chuckled. “Just my pride, my dignity, my secrets, my time, and the luxury of hiding from my fears and my rage.”
Collin glanced Damian up and down. “No offense, man, but you look like you have your pride and your dignity in spades. I looked you up on LinkedIn, you know. And Google.”
Damian’s eyes sparkled. “Yes. I suppose I do.” He sipped his tea, silently laughing. “I guess the question you need to ask yourself, young padawan, is whether or not you’re ready to be stripped down and put back together again.”
“Were you?”
Damian laughed outright, loud enough a few heads turned. “Was I ready? No. No, I wasn’t. But also yes. Almost no one is ready, really. But that’s part of the process. It’s whether or not you need. When you need enough, then it happens.”
“You make it sound like I’m joining a cult.”
“Think of it like a fraternity.” Damian stood up. “A fraternity of gentlemen.”
“Gentlemen? You’re not misogynistic, are you?” Collin matched Damian’s rise.
“No, but good questions. You’ll find that all of us respect women. Deeply. Not in the old-fashioned way of holding open the door. But in seeing them as our partners, at home, in public, in business. You’ll see. Now, do you want to meet someone else?”
“Who? And what do you mean?”
“Do you want to keep exploring Mr. Reevesworth and his proposal? Or do you want to get off this train now?”
Collin filled his lungs with air and swallowed. “I want to keep going. But I haven’t made up my mind. This sounds too good to be true. You look too good to be true. Like seriously, if I met you in a bar, you’d be so far out of my league I wouldn’t try.”
Damian nodded. “The next person will meet you. But when they want to. You probably won’t know who they are.”
And then he turned and walked away. Collin clutched his boba tea and watched him go. The man’s ass looked like art in his pants. And the friendly nod he gave this person and that as he moved toward the sidewalk was easy and confident.
Sunday night at the bar was often slow. Which meant that Collin hoped to get some reading in for his international political economics course. He needed more than a B to keep his average high enough for his scholarship, but the amount of material he needed to cram into his head before the midterm was staggering, especially when he was still working two part-time jobs to afford housing.
