“Good afternoon, how are you?” I asked.
“My underwear is pink.” The man responded.
“Pardon me?”
“My underwear is pink.”
“Your underwear is pink?” I asked in an effort to begin clarifying what was bound to be a misunderstanding.
“Da! Shto tebe ne ponyatno?!”
Why was this man raising his voice at me? And why in the world was he telling me his underwear is pink in response to my asking how he was doing?
“I don’t think I understand. I asked, “How are you?”” I repeated.
“Yes, and I’m telling you that my underwear is pink.”
I was now convinced the conversation was going in circles and one of us wasn’t all there… if you know what I mean.
“I’m sorry… ya ne ochen’ ponimayu…” finally realizing the point was, in fact, that his underwear was pink.
“You ask stupid questions, so you get stupid answers” was the concluding statement of this conversation.

Apparently asking how someone was doing, a common ice breaker and conversation starter amongst practically every nationality was, in fact, not acceptable to this man. This man, Evgeni Saharski, thought it to be so absurd as to respond with something as ridiculous as the color of his undergarments.
So, in fact, the point truly wasn’t about the underwear… but about emphasizing my oh-so “stupid” question. Got it.

This conversation happened the Monday of July 21, 2014. I was on my way to a class and it completely infuriated me for not only the entire remainder of the drive, but for the remainder of that day and even overlapped into the next.

Evgeni is a major partner for a large company I produce marketing materials for. This was just one conversation amongst many with him. It was typical Evgeni. He’s done everything from talk down to me, accuse me of lying, calling me outright lazy, along with other various forms of creative approaches to disrespecting a sleep deprived grad student. This man, who’s company I have rebranded twice, redesigned all marketing materials for, organized the launch of his e-commerce site, and still oversee all print jobs from design to delivery, persistently called me out as a lazy, lying, airheaded bimbo to my dad, his co-workers, janitors, NASA, the bum on the street and anyone else who would listen. If he could he would have told Putin by now. Just splendid.

How does one learn to accept such attitude? Those books with advice on how to deal with difficult people? Communication efforts? Give me a break. The likes of the Evgenis of the world need a whole new category of books, focus groups, and tons of empirical observation. Walking away was the easiest thing to do… but it wasn’t an option (and for reasons more complex than lack of financial freedom). He was my dad’s partner, in a beer related business that if all went well would last a decade or more. I could never turn away from anything my dad needed, and because of this not only was there no way out, there never would be. Unless (knock on wood) something was to happen with the brewery.

So when faced with such a situation one has to learn to accept it, as is. Like a used car sale. It took me a while to learn to be greeted with ridiculous remarks and hearing my knowledge of the field of marketing and design be completely overlooked… unless of course a “marketing specialist” reiterated the same thing I had said months ago. Then Evgeni would listen. ‘Annoyed’ doesn’t do justice to how I used to feel in those moments.

However, with time, as horrible as this may sound, I had to train myself to become immune to it. Otherwise it’s not a long shot to assume I would have lost my nougat by now.
This was far from an instant transition, it spanned over a long and challenging year. And it changed me forever. I have learned to communicate with what will probably be one of the most challenging personalities I will ever have to encounter in my professional life – by the age of 25! I’ve trained to loose sensitivity in my professional life. In my eyes… a priceless quality in business.

At the time, little did I know enduring degrading remarks was going to turn out to be a blessing in disguise. I’m not going to lie… it was no picnic. But through this I’ve learned to let go of any attachment to client-based projects. And it’s a grand relief. Hearing such inaccurate and accusatory remarks about myself either in person (from the horse’s mouth) or through others that run in our common circles, in a way, made me feel untouchable. Once I stopped letting them get the best of me, every remark led to a new observation about Evgeni. It was no longer frustrating me, but enlightening me of his weaknesses.

I hear people say this and that and about how challenging it may be with this client or that client… and I nod in understanding but in the back of my head all I’m thinking is, “you have no fu&!*ng clue.” The key is to learn to laugh it off. To not take things so seriously. To embrace taking your work seriously, but not actually being serious in the process.

I play tennis. I’m an avid tea drinker. I work out. I drink wine. I devote time to a lifestyle I have worked towards. And no Evgeni of the world can take that away from me. And I’m glad that by 25 I have learned to not only understand this concept, but to physically feel it. It’s nice knowing I’m not easily intimidated anymore. That I can rationalize anything to anyone even if they are being completely arrogant and irrational themselves. I grew up hearing an iconic phrase of my father, “vse prosto, ne but’ baranom.” Translation… “It’s simple. Don’t be an idiot.” And so… I never asked Evgeni Saharski how he was doing again. Because that would make me an idiot.