Update September 2019....Everyone Should Be Treated Like a Million Dollar Donor!

The man asked if I wanted a cup of coffee.  He looked like a miniature Frankenstein, casually dressed, smelled like a Mexican Food Restaurant, and was chomping ice from a take away cup.  It was 1:30 p.m. and he was grinning--like a spider in his web....

It took him a long time to get the coffee. I noticed the collection of college yearbooks that I had personally donated to the University--searching estate sales for years until we had these valuable historical references.  

No one remembers what anyone has done in the past.  The thought is that 'it' all began when they started working here...

For some reason, that 'fight or flee' instinct hit me...was sitting here to 'help' this 'no small talk for you' administrator going to be the  biggest mistake of my life.  Here I was, at this man’s invitation—he’s an interim vice president at a large regional University and the big shot mayor in a little shot town—the town is quaint; the mayor? Not so much.

He sold used cars.  Daddy gave him the business.  He ran it into bankruptcy and was given this cushion job to pay his bankruptcy debt. The Good Old Boy Search Committee for job vacancies...paid by tax dollars... But, the newly-brought in President has a 'man crush' on this fellow and this guy 'has the President's ear'...

He returned and gave me coffee; then gave me Hell. 

He said no one liked me; that I was hated in ‘his town’.  He said he didn’t know how to ‘use me’…. I was mortified.  Never been in this climate—all new atmosphere…

He said he had heard from one town gossip that I was her poisonous enemy.

I said, “Jesus had enemies.”

He said without hesitation like he expected me to say that, “Yeah, and they killed him.”

I told him, “He took three days, solved his ‘death’ problem, and became the Savior of all Humankind”.

He asked, "what happened with your fraternity".  I looked at him blankly.  The answer was simple.  I asked for an audit--a first in its 53 year history.  Made some handling the cash nervous.

I told the honorable mayor that I was leaving. This nut job--no credentials, barely educated, not trained in collegiate fundraising--was NOT going to steal my joy today.  

Why did he not know all of the meeting 'rule of thumb' laws? As seasoned fund raiser's know--look for the man's jacket and the ladies' handbags--they are the tell tale sign if a check is about to be presented.... It was over 100 degrees and I was carrying a wool jacket while he told me how I did not deserve his job (Didn't ask for it, Mayor Paranoia!)

In that heavy, hot wool jacket pocket, was a cashier’s check for $1 million-dollar unrestricted donation from clients/friends couple I had been speaking—about how wonderful the University was headed and how a large unrestricted gift would help reshape and enhance the advancement program.  That their gift of $1 million would be a multiplier gift and generate others to help students and faculty and staff.

But, as an agent for the donors, I could not trust their dollars with a man who could not be cordial and relied on untrue mean-spirited gossip… 

He blabbered on and on: I took my exit. 

The donors were called; they said if I were not welcome, their donation was not welcome.  Bring the check back home...So be it. 

It has now been two years since my visit to the University.

I have not heard from the ice-chomping mayor/fundraiser who ran me off.  The University (my alma mater, my former employment, my childhood hometown)... even the Fraternity that I held together as adviser for 15 years.... have kicked me in the head--anyone who moves out of town seems to be cast out--a walk the plank alumni theory... 

Treat everyone like they could be a million-dollar donor.  Make that a 'billion' dollar donor ... or even a friend without two coins to rub together.

Read an etiquette book.

And only offer fresh coffee.