I just got off the phone with El Jefe. He called to tell me he just ate lunch at Chick-Fil-A and there were a million kids there. Then he mentioned that he found a bookkeeper, because he was looking for one. From there he told me a fun story about an argument he got into with a home inspector, which brought hysterical laughter from both of us. It was just like old times.
We talked for 13 minutes. When we finished our chat, I sat back, wondering why he really called. My best guess is that I hurt him by leaving. We have been in this awkward text message, lets-recycle-the-same-old-jokes phase of our friendship lately. Maybe this was an olive branch.
El Jefe and I have been friends for years. He mentored me and trained me when I first became an agent. When I worked for him, I had a really great commission split set up and he knows what I am spending on signs, advertising, errors and omission insurance just about covers what I was paying him--all of which he provided.
To me, it felt like that phone call one gets a few months after a break-up, where the ex is just checking to see how things are going, but they really want to know is why did the whole relationship end. Because it pretty much was exactly like that. In this case, he didn't ask why I left. And I didn't elaborate. I don't mind leaving that as the elephant in the room. He wouldn't like my answers anyway. But it was fun to talk to him again.
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