We’d been told no three times.
That’s how “ice cream is for closers” became our battle cry.
I got a last-minute speaking slot for EOS at Vistage ChairWorld, at the Swan at Disney World. EOS had two rooms for three of us. Julie and Lauren were headed back to their sorority days: two queen beds, one vanity, not enough mirror for two makeup stations.
We asked the event producer. No. We asked again. No. They asked at noon check-in. No.
At 5 pm I got in line. I’ll be honest about why. I loved being told no. I’m a bit oppositionally defiant, and a hotel desk is low stakes practice with high stakes pride on the table.
No credentials. No big-shot speech. Just a label, naming what I saw.
“Seems like the hotel is hopping.”
“Yeah, we’re busy. I’ve seen busier.”
A crack of daylight. So I asked a no-oriented question, the kind that makes “no” feel safe to say.
“How hard would it be to get a second room?”
Furious typing. Then he walked to the back without a word.
I tapped my foot and looked up at Pops, my grandfather, in heaven, in the overwatch position. Hopeful. Still braced for no.
He came back. “Mr. Smith, I got you an upgrade and an extra room.”
I left a $20 on the counter. Pops always said, spread a little sunshine.
That night at dinner, I slid the extra keys across the table.
The menu said two rooms. The yes was off the menu. There is almost always another angle if you keep looking.
A few days later, Julie and Lauren were craving ice cream. I went on walkabout and found some.
Ice cream is for closers.
When did you order off the menu and get a yes?