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John8 runs a large public listed company. John8 is highly driven, successful, focussed. He would have to be by definition. He is highly educated and smart. Not always the case. Smart is an elusive quality it seems. John8 also boasts some wild and wonderful outdoor passions. I would not have complained should I have been fortunate enough to accompany him on such more than once. But once was all I can boast. John8 can wear the corporate hat and the 'Wild men of Borneo' hat. Although John8 is very tall unlike the 'Wild men of Borneo' who were dwarves. Very attractive. John8, not the dwarves. They were singularly unattractive.
John8 has very good taste in, inter alia, champagne. Real champagne, that is. And I have a penchant for such true blue beverages. He has a champagne fridge in his kitchen, just saying. The kitchen overlooking the ocean, just saying. John8 is stylish. Cotton collared-shirts, loafers, closely cropped hair, clean shaven, the London-look I call it. Nice. Very nice. I was very interested in this fellow.
We had a wonderful few occasions together. But in-between these wonderful occasions (they really were wonderful) he would forget about me. Seriously. Whooooosh. Gone. Silence. Then "Hello!" out of the blue and an invitation would be forthcoming. I refrained from mentioning this aspect of our dynamic. One ought not to do so for fear of such a remark being deemed critical by the recipient. So I "sucked it up" so to speak and "went with the flow". As one does. As one should in the early days after meeting someone.
My school's motto was "Nil Nisi Optimum". For those non-Latin scholars it means "nothing but the best". I have lived by this motto ever since I left school. Funny that. While I was at school it never entered my mind. Only boys did if the truth be told. They were very much top of mind, at all times. I outperformed in that area of my life, back then. Not so much now. Obviously. Striving for excellence is my unique selling point. I attempt to optimise performance in all I do. I achieve such much of the time, too. And if do not achieve it, I know I have tried my very best. Not arrogant. Not self-congratulatory. Honesty. My offspring have been nurtured in this environs, too. It shows. No sloppy deliveries coming out of our abode. Actually, there is one sloppy delivery. Very sloppy. The one and only area where 'we' have slipped is in the case of the first and second borns' appearance at school. That is underperformance par excellence. They have perfected the grungy look: shoes sans laces (who needs laces?), Blazers sans buttons (no point in replacing, they'll fall off again), un-brushed ponytail (daughter, not son and heir), unshaven cheeks (son and heir, not daughter), ties not kissing necks, skirts too short (first born), trousers hem-less and seams undone (second born, don't sew them Mum, I am almost finished school). Singularly unappealing and quite frankly appalling. But, I made them, I don't dress them. I advise them, they don't always have to listen.
So outperformance is my modus operandi. And John8 was no exception. He outperformed in almost every area of his life. Except one.
John8 told me that I should not date him. "You see," he said, "I am a serial underperformer when it comes to relationships." That much was obvious given his relationship curriculum vitae." John8 had a series of underperformances of note. John8 explained that he was unable to sustain a relationship in between sightings. That was clear, as clear as the view out of his seaside sitting room window the day the window cleaners had come and gone.
I am an outperformer. John8 is not. Well, he is occupationally, but not where it matters to me. So off John8 went striving for the best for his large public listed company. And outperform he has, given the latest company financial results. Outstanding performance, John8.