The man came in front of the assembled group and spoke. It was not in any common language, but only in high-minded abstractions, not tethered to any reference point: the essence of Maximum Business Value for the Customer. I waited politely for a break in the flow, past the effluvium of "I'm here to balance the books and bring us through our growth stage" type suit-wearing nonsense. I had to see if this man-shaped blot in my vision, soaking up brickloads of my time, had even the faintest glimmer of a soul.

There was my pause, and the words came out: "Yeah, uh, who's your favorite author?" Everything changed in that moment. The shell of a man imploded, and this black hole of stammering awkwardness emptied the air from the room. It took a minute for the shocked "um, uh, errr," to replenish the oxygen, but by that time, the damage was done.