After the LinkedIn incident, I decided to leave well-enough alone. Thanks to another social media site, I’d figured out who’d been responsible, and though I was tempted to follow up my email to “Ken” with a phone call, better judgment prevailed. But a curious thing did take place soon after.
Before I get into that, I want to back up to June of 2008, and an interesting photography session. A good friend of mine — a professional photographer — spent an entire Saturday at my home, creating images that would eventually be employed for book promotion, including the back cover head shot of Water Signs. For the purposes of this story, it’s not necessary or even advisable to reveal her name, but I will mention that she’s one of my oldest and dearest friends in South Florida. In fact, the character of Isabella is partially based on this friend, along with another woman I used to know.
Although I absolutely hate posing for formal pictures, my friend and I had so much fun that day changing venues, outfits and poses. The community in which I live is rife with beautiful, outdoor scenery and locations, so we’d alternate indoor shots in my home with others out in front of the garden, with the palm fronds swaying behind me.
Since we were together for a while that afternoon, I filled my friend in on the back story behind Water Signs, since — much like my close friend “Elyse” (Theresa), she’d known nothing about “Ken” — notwithstanding our 12-year friendship. As I’ve noted, the mind and will are powerful forces.
Anyway, as I relayed the information, something clicked with her, something pertaining to “Erin”. Seemed she had a friend who’d written a cookbook and sought out “Erin’s” professional services pertaining to web design and marketing. To be sure, she called her friend, who upon hearing the real name, confirmed it to be true. To say that this woman had not been happy with the customer service she’d received would be an understatement.
My photographer friend had already known of her dissatisfaction, since she’d helped her locate another designer to complete the cookbook website — which happened to revolve around the state of Pennsylvania and its traditions (another ironic twist), including the Amish Country. This woman relayed several fascinating tidbits, such as never being allowed inside “Erin’s” house (site of her office). Whenever she needed to drop something off to the designer, she was immediately greeted just outside the front door or in the driveway; never once was she invited in.
As a customer, this woman found her hired designer to be quite rude, with a “basic” personality, lacking in depth and character. If I recall correctly, the last forms of communication they’d had via email (once the woman had secured a new person to finish the project), had been very terse. According to the friend of my friend, “Erin” was a typical “Philly Girl” — a phenomenon with which she was familiar, having been raised in the area.
So when the LinkedIn thing happened much later that same year, I can’t say I was surprised when I finally unraveled the mystery and discovered the real culprit.
About a week or so later, I attended a Boca Raton Meetup for entrepreneurs presented by Jay Berkowitz. The information I gathered that evening proved to be invaluable, but the most memorable aspect of the event occurred long before Jay took to the podium. As is the case with most of these gatherings, every person in attendance was given a minute to introduce themselves and explain their business in brief. When it was my turn, I mentioned that I was an author as well as a web content writer, editor and blogger.
After all had introduced themselves, we were allowed some time to simply mingle before the formal presentation. And that was when a very nice woman, a financial planner, came right up to me and asked, “Do you know “Erin Lockheart”?
Oh, you mean the woman who while pretending to be her husband, asked me to recommend his “big johnson” via the LinkedIn social media site? That Erin Lockheart? Yes, I’m afraid I do know her.
While I wish I could’ve replied that way, I somehow managed to hide my surprise, stating something to the effect of “Yes, I’ve heard the name”. After which, the woman insisted on taking one of my business cards (which were in my hands, thus eliminating the excuse, “Oh, I am so sorry I must’ve run out of them”) because she was pretty darned sure that as a web designer, “Erin” might have a need for good content writers from time to time. Bless her heart, that lady was such a great networker. And I must admit, I got a chuckle out of imagining the whole scenario of this woman presenting Erin with my business card and glowing praise.
Yes, in Boca Raton there are definitely six degrees of separation. And this was only one of many forthcoming incidents to prove it.