Shortly after we organized New World Merchant Partners, we were retained by a former client of mine that owns and operates a technology-based company in what can only be called beautiful, but rural, Louisiana. As Andrew Glashow and I handle New World’s financial advisory and corporate finance activities, we hastily arranged a trip to see the facility and to meet management and other important personnel.
As Andrew was flying from Boston and I was flying from New York, we decided to take flights that would deliver us to Charlotte at approximately the same time so that we could review the materials together on our flight to New Orleans. Unfortunately, the only flights that worked in this regard left New York at 5:30am and left Boston at 6:30am. I thought that this was probably a good hour to travel as there would be no delays. In New York, it was amazing how many people were actually awake at 3:00am. Believe it or not, the ride to the airport was slow as a result of traffic. Additionally, security at the airport was actually crowded and slow. Go figure.
I arrived in Charlotte on time and boarded the next plane. There was no sign of Andrew, so I sent him several texts to inquire as to where he was and whether he would arrive in time for the flight. As the flight attendants started to close the doors, I received Andrew’s text – he was sprinting through the airport. As Andrew was not in his seat, which was next to mine, the flight attendant gave his seat to a standby passenger over my objections. Two minutes later, Andrew arrived and was graced with the window seat in the last row, which does not recline, and which was adjacent to the overly-perfumed lavatory. He was also lucky enough to be seated next to a “chatty Kathy”, a non-stop talker. Basically, Andrew entered “travel hell”. I was seated next to a woman who insisted on looking at everything which I was reading, and commenting on it. I stopped reading.
After arrival in New Orleans, Andrew and I went to pick up our rental car. As luck would have it, there was no reservation for Andrew Glashow, only for Andre Glashow. To this day, we often refer to Andrew as Andre.
Our client’s facility was located about three hours north of New Orleans, which meant that we travelled through the bayou, into Mississippi and then back into Louisiana. You can drive for hours and basically not see anything other than trees and the occasional car.
We spent the day at the client’s facility, and found its management, facility, business, and technology to be very impressive. We relaxed during the evening and joined our client for dinner and drinks before returning to our hotel.
When we arrived back at the hotel, we were informed by the staff that it was karaoke night and that we should head to hotel bar. The scene was out of a bad movie – drunk locals singing everything from Eddie Money to The Eagles to Guns ‘n Roses – sometimes with shirts on, sometimes with shirts off, sometimes even singing the wrong song. Its not that they were off-key or off-tempo – they had no key or tempo whatsoever. Lyrics simply did not have anything to do with the music. It was a “train wreck”. Our bartender, a woman with few remaining teeth and a few too many tattoos for anything other than the circus, was singing along at the top of her lungs.
A few “clear thinkers” in and Andrew and I got to witness what happens when crowds become ugly – one karaoke singer was just too touchy with a friend’s girlfriend and he was abruptly yanked off-stage by his “friends”. After the skuffle, the din continued and we concluded that there is nothing worse than karaoke in the bayou.
