PASSIONATE RATIONS

An introvert by nature, I often find in the midst of a conference that I need to recharge by disengaging from the crowds and securing some quality alone time.

After a day of meetings on Saturday, I thought it might be nice to return to my host’s residence (an elegant condominium on Biscayne Bay) and sip vodka spritzers on the deck.  Given the lovely weather, I determined to walk the two miles or so from the hotel to the condo.

As I passed the American Airlines stadium, I got swept up in a veritable flood of people leaving the arena, almost all going in the opposite direction from me.  Fighting the tide, I pushed through, noting in doing so that the crowd seemed incredibly racially and culturally diverse.  I thought initially that they were with my conference because of the similar name tags, but realized on closer inspection that they were not.  The sheer numbers should have told me that.  I found it notable that, in my attempt to be alone, I was instead surrounded by people.  “Just get through it,” I thought. 

And I did.

However, a few blocks later, I found myself trailing four Chinese women from the stadium (given their nametags).  One turned to me and struck up a very friendly conversation.  Soon the other three joined in and I found myself chatting with them as if we were best friends.  They invited me to dinner.

Now, it occurred to me upon being invited that the whole thing was a bit odd.  I don’t usually meet strangers on the street and dine with them.  And, being my skeptical self, I wondered a little about what kind of “conference” they had just attended and whether this might have anything to do with the invitation.  But when they told me they were headed for a local Chinese eatery, how could I resist?

We wound up at Tony Chan’s Water Club.  Again, vegetarianism met the wind and was gone.  With one tofu exception, we each ordered a meat-based entrée:  shrimp and cashews, wok of lamb, black pepper beef, and a chicken dish.  The tofu was unexceptional in my opinion, but the meat dishes were all fabulous, rivaling the best Chinese food I ever had in Los Angeles’ or New York’s Chinatown.  The shrimp were perfectly prepared—firm and crunchy, but tender.  The lamb and beef were spicy and succulent.

Over the course of the meal the friendly conversation stayed friendly, but became somewhat more…shall I say “aggressive”?

The women, one by one, shared stories about how they, or someone in their family, had health problems that were resolved or made better by products their company just happened to sell.  Now I learned what the conference was all about.

They repeatedly asked questions of me, seeking information, including boldly asking if I wanted to “make more money.”  Generally reticent and difficult to get to know under any circumstances (introverted, not anti-social), I answered without revealing too much (I think).  By the end of the meal I had a product catalog, their conference schedule, and a free sample…and they had my phone number (oops, revealed too much).

Mind you, I enjoyed the meal and thought my hosts very nice people, but I never appreciate an unsolicited sales pitch.  After a couple of hours, I extricated myself, thanking them for the meal and noting that my profession demands me to do my research, but that I would look into the information they gave me.

And I did.

It appears their company is an example of so-called “multi-level marketing,” which can often look like (or be) a pyramid scheme.  Though certainly some such ventures (like Avon) are legal and reputable, others blur the line, feeding on people’s greed and incredulity.  I won’t speculate on the merits of the company at issue here, or even name it.  Apparently, though, given the crowds at the stadium, it appeals to a wide variety and great number of people.  I can assure you I will not buy in.

What I thought would be a food adventure turned into a sociological one.

Didn’t I say I had wanted to be alone?  After dinner I really needed that vodka.