The facilitator

The funny little man walked into the middle of our meeting.

The funny little man was known to us all – of course we knew him! – but this time, something was different. This time, he brought with him a six-pack of beer, which he set atop the table as he pulled up a chair.

We tried to carry on. It was a meeting of the political variety and I was the acting facilitator, but soon every eye in the room was fixed upon the funny little man and his six-pack of beer.

At last, he noticed us. He said, “O, I was over riding here on my bike just now when I came upon this beer in a ditch. Unopened!”

Again we tried to carry on and we had some success. Minutes were read and resolutions carried. But then the funny little man pulled out his phone and began photographing his found beer from a variety of unexpected angles.

Unprompted, he said, “I don’t drink, but I think I can sell this beer on Craig’s List.”

None of our faces betrayed what we may have been thinking. We tried to carry on and we had some success. Positions were endorsed and future meetings set.

In fact, we were nearly finished when the funny little man leapt up and said, in a stage whisper, “Ten dollars! Yes!” and scampered away from our meeting room.

Everyone looked to me. I was the facilitator.

I shrugged. “Sure, he found it in a ditch and it’s probably warm,” I said. “But… home delivery? That’s gotta be worth ten bucks…”

At this, everyone nodded. We finished our meeting without further incident.