Six Degrees of Separation: Elyse Meets Erin

My friend “Elyse Lombard” has been living in Boca Raton, along with her entire family, for almost 30 years. For at least the past 10 years, she’s been working in the family moving business as VP of Sales and Marketing, which affords her plenty of opportunities to meet all kinds of people and customers throughout South Florida. She’s also been actively involved in  both the Boca Raton and Delray Beach Chambers of Commerce for as long as I can remember, having met her in early 2001 through a mutual friend.

A mover and shaker, “Elyse” is beautiful, smart, gregarious, charming and hard-working, and her family’s business is well-known and respected in the area. For this reason, it’s often very difficult for her to attend any sort of midday networking events, as she’s typically booked with at least five moving estimates per day. It’s all she can do to keep up with her early-morning leads group meetings at the chambers of commerce — and oftentimes, she exceeds the allowable absences, although she’s never asked to leave because she’s such a great networker.

But one day in January of this year, she was able to attend a luncheon event she’d previously declined when a customer canceled their scheduled appointment. Feeling very strongly that she would bump into “Erin” at this event (a woman she’d never met before), “Elyse” contacted me on the way to the venue to obtain “Erin’s” real name, which I then shared with her.

Did I mention “Elyse” is very intuitive and quite often correct in her hunches?

Later that afternoon, she called to breathlessly inform me that her psychic premonition had been right on target. Even stranger was the way in which it all went down: they didn’t simply “bump” into each other, “Erin” actually strode right up to my friend (who’d been chatting with a few other women) specifically to introduce herself — which is normally the kind of thing good networkers do at such gatherings.

And “Elyse” — in spite of her intuitive awareness — was still quite taken aback when it took place for real. She also thought it rather odd that for someone who’d gone out of her way to initiate an introduction, “Erin” exhibited a strange unfriendliness, a noticeable  aloofness. To the best of my knowledge, she’d had no prior inkling of “Elyse’s” relationship to me, but this description coincided with the one put forth by my photographer friend’s friend — the woman who’d been unhappy with “Erin’s” professional services.

Speaking of which, soon after I hung up the phone with “Elyse”, my photographer friend called me on behalf of her friend — “Erin’s” former, dissatisfied client — to obtain “Elyse’s” phone number. Normally, I’d think nothing of it, but coming on the heels of what had just transpired at the business luncheon, I found it all very curious.

But the story doesn’t end there.

A few weeks later, “Elyse” had the good fortune of being able to attend yet another midday event (again, highly unusual for her), where she just happened to be seated diagonally across from “Erin”. She’d discovered this after greeting another mutual friend (who’d been assigned to the table directly behind her) and exclaiming in her boisterous, effervescent manner “Isn’t it great we’re both gonna be on Daria’s show!”, referring to The Liberty Belle Hour.

When “Elyse” took her seat, “Erin” (whom “Elyse” is fairly certain heard the exchange) kind of gave her a strange look. And apparently, throughout the course of the event, she kept trying to make eye contact with my friend, who kept averting her gaze. If memory serves correctly, I believe they did briefly say hello at some point.

Being the protective “older sister” she is, “Elyse” related her discomfort about the whole interaction and the thought of developing a professional association with “Erin”, but I assured her that business is business; there was no reason to feel awkward about talking to “Erin” at all. I am secure in our enduring friendship and have never been the kind of person who makes unreasonable demands like, “If you’re my friend you won’t talk to so-and-so”, or “If you’re really my friend, you’ll do this or that”. That’s not how I roll. Besides, I’ve done nothing wrong.

If anything, “Erin” should be ashamed of posing as her husband on a social media site and attempting to “trap” an innocent woman whose only “crime” was fictionalizing some real life events into a novel. I might further add that I also put myself through some pretty intense and nearly debilitating heartbreak by pretending to be thrilled when “Ken” asked me point-blank how I felt about his engagement back in 1995 — because I didn’t think it was fair to hurt a woman I didn’t even know.

Would the outcome have been different if I’d been honest with him? Well, as Maddy muses to herself in Chapter 19:

At least the reason for the change in the tone of his calls had been revealed, though Maddy couldn’t quite decipher the timeline of events. Not that it even mattered at this point. She wouldn’t dare hurt a woman she’d never met by coming clean with Ken about her real feelings, about how she still loved him deeply in spite of everything. Even if she did go out on that limb, there was no guarantee he’d return the sentiment, or assuming he did, break off his engagement to Erin to pursue a renewed relationship with her.

One other curious thing that also took place concurrently with the “Erin/Elyse” events I’ve described: another one of my friends happened to come over to my house one night, unexpectedly bearing a particular product that had been on sale at the store, thinking perhaps I could use it. This product just happens to bear the name of the person upon whom “Erin” is loosely based. Very interesting, indeed.

So 2010 certainly started out on an interesting note; funny that this all happened exactly one year after the LinkedIn incident and the Boca Raton Entrepreneur Meetup. In this town, six degrees of separation is simply a way of life.

LinkedIn, The Star Spangled Banner and the Tea Party Movement

After that little interaction with the nice lady at the networking event, not much else transpired on the “Ken and Erin” front for most of the year.  Armed with new insight into Erin’s integrity, based not only on the LinkedIn email, but also a friend of a friend’s experience with her as a businesswoman, I felt the urgency to steer clear of both of them even more strongly. As I’ve mentioned, I was not out to ruin anyone’s marriage, though the deception displayed by Erin in pretending to be her husband and writing that ridiculous message does make me wonder about the state of their union.

If their marriage was solid and strong, why would a fictionalized novel even have the power to drive her to do something so outrageous in the first place? Did she stop to think about his reaction? Assuming we were having an affair (which I’ve stated is not the case), did she honestly think I’d broadcast it in an email?

Oh yes, Kenny, I want to tell the whole world about your johnson! And while I’m at it, I’ll give them an explicit account of every extramarital tryst we’ve shared, so everyone will know what we’ve been up to!

I mean, it’s simply absurd.

Now one thing I do remember about “Ken” is that like me, he can be overly sensitive; he can also  transform from fun-loving and full-of-life to angry and defensive if he feels hurt or betrayed by someone else’s behavior. I can’t imagine he reacted well upon receiving my forwarded email of the original request, and can only surmise that at the very least, they had one heck of a fight about it. Speaking for myself, if my husband had logged onto a website using my credentials in an effort to “trap” an old boyfriend, that alone would infuriate me.

And if she really thought it possible that he’d been cheating, why not confront him about it directly and calmly? Why add insult to injury by being deceptive?

Looking back, I guess I must’ve salvaged a Christmas Holiday for her, because it took me until the day before New Year’s Eve to even respond, that’s how taken aback I was.

But as 2009 unfolded, I concentrated exclusively on promoting my book, co-hosting internet talk shows, getting involved in the grassroots Tea Party Movement, editing for clients, blogging and otherwise avoiding any potential run-ins with Ken and Erin, either in cyberspace or in real life. Funny, but I’ve lived just two miles away from them all these years and have never once spontaneously bumped into either one, ever.

But in December of 2009, I received an email from “Ken” (who’d also included some pretty big media names in the distribution, like Sean Hannity). This time, it was nothing personal, just a copy of his email response to a stupid liberal sportswriter who thought it was a great idea to eliminate the singing of The Star Spangled Banner at professional sporting events. By this time I’d been contributing regularly to Parcbench, Canada Free Press and my other blog, Palin Drone. I have a pretty good idea that “Ken” had been checking out my posts and hence, thought I could get his editorial letter additional exposure, which I did. I’m sure he also knew it was a hot-button topic for me; one that I would not be able to resist commenting about.

So perhaps knowing I shared his passion for the subject and the USA, he’d sent this to me as a way of re-establishing communication? Who knows. But it did give me a great idea for a story, which in the end was published on the Parcbench site. I am also incorporating it into my sequel, Sea To Shining Sea, as a letter Ken writes to the editor, because it fits in perfectly with the plot and themes unfolding in that story.

“Ken’s” request for distribution led to a series of cordial email communications — none of which so much as mentioned Water Signs — prompting me to use the opportunity to set the record straight about the LinkedIn debacle. In very clear terms, I recounted the entire story of how I’d put all of the pieces together, which ultimately verified my initial gut instincts. He replied that he never uses LinkedIn much at all (we have that in common, too) and confirmed “It sounds like you have figured out that it was not me”.

And I was relieved to finally get it out in the open. For whatever reason, it was bugging me that — as far as he knew — I still believed that tacky, immature email came from him and not his wife. For that matter, I wanted her to be aware that I was on to her little schemes, and in fact, told him forthrightly I “wanted this nonsense to stop”.  And it has.

However, social media would prove to be revealing on other ways as far as these two were concerned. More on that in my next post.

LinkedIn Deception

Social media sites like Facebook, Twitter and to a much lesser extent, LinkedIn, have mostly proven an invaluable resource for me, not simply for promoting my book, but also for political activism, networking and even hosting internet radio programs like Conservative Republican Republican Forum (which recently celebrated its one-year anniversary) and The Liberty Belle Hour (still on hiatus until August).

But as I’ve learned in the political realm, social media — when employed by unscrupulous people — can also wreak havoc and damage innocent reputations, if left unchecked. And if I had a nickel for every time I’ve had to block a Ron Paul freak on Facebook, I’d be able to donate large sums of money to every conservative candidate of my choice.

On a personal note, before I parlayed my grassroots activism into an online revolutionary presence (along with countless other like-minded Americans), I experienced the downside of this new medium. In December of 2008, Water Signs had been on the market just three months, and I was busy finding new and creative ways to advertise it in cyberspace and in the real world. I hadn’t heard from “Ken” since our Labor Day chat, and other than knowing he’d created a free log-in on the website (which enables readers to sample five chapters), I had no idea if he’d even read the entire book — and if so — whether he loved or hated it.

Then one day in early December, I got a very strange request via the LinkedIn website, allegedly from “Ken”, who at the time was one of my connections (though for obvious reasons, no longer). Although I don’t spend much time at all on this site, never having developed a real liking for it, back then I utilized it quite a bit. And since I’d received many previous requests via LinkedIn for recommendations before, I was well-acquainted with their official style and format, versus a “fake” made to appear as if it’s coming from their site.

Anyway, this request for recommendation from “Kenneth Lockheart” looked like all of the others when I opened it up in my email account. However, when I read the personalized message, I knew immediately something was definitely off:

Dear Daria,

I am sending this to ask you for a brief recommendation of my work that I can include in my LinkedIn profile. If you have any questions, let me know. Responsible, professional, thorough…big johnson…what have you…haha…basically make something up.

Thanks in advance for helping me out. I will do the same. Let’s get creative.

First, for anyone who might not be aware, “johnson” is a colloquial term for a guy’s manhood, the equivalent of “gonads” or as Michelle Malkin once famously referred to them, “gumballs”. For all of his faults, the “Ken” I knew never disrespected me, nor did he ever use any sort of colorful language around me, even when angry. So for him to throw in the line about a “big johnson” was completely out of the norm. In fact, the moment I read the email, my intuition sounded the alarm that this ridiculous request did not in fact originate with “Ken”, but with his wife.

Secondly, other than the little he’d shared with me on the phone, I didn’t know much about “Ken’s” professional life, and was therefore unqualified to make a recommendation in the first place. I wasn’t a client who could testify to his excellent follow-up and pervasive knowledge of his product. I was just someone who remembered him as having a stellar work ethic, which is evident through my description of his character in Water Signs.

Lastly, the request came from out of the blue. As I mentioned, we’d not spoken in three months, during which time I’d published the book. If he didn’t think enough of the novel — in which a character based on him plays a dominant role — to email or call me with some kind of reaction, what on earth would compel him to suddenly ask for a reference via LinkedIn?

None of it made sense. And though I knew in my heart who the responsible party was, I am not one to throw out unfounded accusations. I needed some proof.

For a few weeks, I did nothing, as the hectic Christmas Season unfolded and I busied myself with the usual activities that characterize that time of year. However, during a visit to Philly later that month, my cousin encouraged me to email him to get to the truth. I regret that I refused to give him the benefit of the doubt when crafting my correspondence — per Annie’s protective instincts. I also regret that I allowed her to talk me into using “WTF” as the subject line. But my biggest mistake by far was failing to initially forward the original request to him, complete with the official LinkedIn header.

Instead, in a new email, I wrote:

Hey Ken,

Just had a minute to review my inbox again as I am extremely busy promoting my book. Quite honestly, your email had me very perplexed, thus explaining the subject line of this response. I am not sure exactly why you are asking for a recommendation since I’ve never been a client and haven’t been a part of your life in any meaningful way in quite a long time. As for the “johnson” comment, well…I obviously wouldn’t know anything about that. 🙂

Regarding the recommendation, I only give those out for people whose work I am familiar with.

Sorry I couldn’t help you,

Daria

I don’t know if he’s constantly plugged in via computer or BlackBerry, but his response was almost instantaneous, incredibly terse, definitely rude and — as you will note, lacking in proper punctuation:

recommendation? not sure what happened as I don’t need any… sorry. good luck with the book. hope your readers enjoy.. adios

That prompted me to dig through my emails to retrieve the original LinkedIn request and send it back to him, along with the subject line, “Maybe this will refresh your memory. Happy New Year!”

It would be nearly a year before I’d hear anything from him again.

However, a few weeks later the mystery was solved when MyLife.com sent me a link to a list of people who’d recently check out my profile (which I promptly deleted from that site). Surprise, surprise…”Erin” had been one of them. Moreover, she’d looked me up on December 9, and I’d received the LinkedIn request shortly thereafter. My gut instinct had been correct, it had been her all along. But rather than follow-up with “Ken”, I decided to let the matter drop.

This led me to conclude that both “Ken” and “Erin” had not only read Water Signs, but that it had opened up a torrent of emotion. What else would explain her deception in logging into a social media site with her husband’s credentials and falsely requesting a work recommendation from me?

But what exactly did she hope to gain? If she suspected her husband was being unfaithful, did she really think this was a viable method of catching him in the act? I suppose in the age of social media, such antiquated notions like hiring a private detective have gone the way of the beeper.

This is all very ironic as well, considering the fact that I haven’t even been in the same room with “Ken” since the mid-90s. If he’d in fact cheated on her, it certainly hadn’t been with me.

I don’t know what went through “Ken’s” mind when he saw the original LinkedIn email I forwarded, but I do know how hurt and angry I’d felt after he basically told me to go to hell. Come to think of it, that was quite an overreaction; was he really that offended by “WTF”? Hard to imagine.

Anyway, in January of 2009 — concurrent with discovering Erin’s LinkedIn deception, I attended a marketing seminar in Boca Raton, where the expression “six degrees of separation” would take on new and personal meaning. More on that in my next post.