Have you ever been in the middle of a discussion with someone, and then, out of the blue, they hit you with a question from left field? You know what I mean. This question is from left field for a couple of reasons. First of all, we were in the middle of a conversation that had nothing whatsoever to do with what you just asked me. I know some of you are thinking that I should be the last person in the world to complain about switching topics mid-stream. You may have a valid point, but I need you to stay focused.
The second reason that this question is from left field is because it is on a topic that have no knowledge of whatsoever. So, this person has broken the flow of a perfectly good conversation (a right reserved exclusively for me), to asked me a question I could not possibly answer. Okay, my mind is going a million miles an hour right now. I am thinking, “What are they up to?” Is this some type Jedi mind trick? The paranoid conspiracy theorist has emerged. So, I answer their question with a question: Who sent you? Good, I catch them off guard. They can’t respond, so I crank up the heat. Are you the guy that has been setting all of the brush fires in the state of California for years (For those who are new to reading my posts; I have a theory that the annual brush fires in California are the work of one man)? By now, the guy has forgotten the question he asked. He is on the defensive. Do I back off and give him time to recuperate? Of course not, that would be totally counterproductive. I turn up the heat.
Okay, right now everyone is going what in the world does this have to do with insurance in California? If I have told you once, I have told you a thous and times; let me do this. You read, and I write. That is the arrangement here. The connection between this story and Insurance in California, whether it is in Brentwood, Encino or Santa Monica, is that often in life things come out of left field with no warning. If you are not prepared to engage the unpredictable, it could literally derail your life.
If it’s okay with you, I am going to finish my story now. By the time I finished sending a barrage of question at this gentlemen, I could see that he was mentally dazed. He can’t even put together a complete sentence. I can tell that his pulse is racing and he is beginning to perspire. Let me ask you once more; do you think I relented? No, not even close. I could have said that I was just kidding. I could have given him a moment to explain why he felt the need to ask me that silly question in the first place, but that was not my objective. I had made up in my mind that I was going to teach him that despite what his second grade teacher told him, there is such a thing as a stupid question.
