I’m going to continue talking about people and opportunities. That’s right, this is going to be a miniseries, so buckle up and stay tuned.
I want to tell you about a friend of mine. I’ve only met him once, yet he is a constant, loyal and valuable presence in my life. How did we meet?
Well, that’s a great story.
If you already know about my experience as a tour guide, skip to the next paragraph. For new readers, let me explain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up. In high school, I worked as a tour guide at Frank Lloyd Wright’s Fallingwater in Mill Run, Pennsylvania. Over the course of five years, I saw and/or met Shaun White, Hoon Lee, Rachel McAdams, Nick Offerman and many more as they each paid their respects to an architectural marvel. Shaun White flashed me a smile — Nick Offerman flashed me a frown.
All this to say, I met a lot of great folks. However, there is one name that stands out, though it is not a famous name as you might expect.
It was the end of a summer work day. At Fallingwater, the last tour is usually sent at 4:24 p.m. On this particular day, it was almost 4:30 p.m., and the only guides left were myself and a new guide named Kate. We were packing up our things, preparing to vacate the premises, when the phone rang.
Our hearts dropped. We knew what this meant.
“Uh, hi, we have another tour launching in six minutes,” the voice on the phone informed us. We heard the sound of a pen scratching as she jotted a note to herself. “But guys, it’s kind of a weird situation …”
Kate and I shared a look; she was next in line, so technically the burden of the last tour would be on her.
“We already closed the gate,” the voice continued. “But there’s someone up here who missed the 4:24 launch.”
I knew where this was heading. It wasn’t pretty.
“I’m so sorry. But someone has to give this guy a tour.”
A one-person tour. My breath stopped.
I glanced over at Kate. She looked like she had been hit with a load of bricks. For a new guide, I couldn’t imagine the anxiety of flying solo in this situation. It was almost as frightening as my first solo experience when I gave a tour to 14 Russian visitors who spoke no English.
In retrospect, it probably would have been good experience for her. But as much as I wanted to go home, I could not abandon her in this situation. I decided to give the tour.
To ensure that my takeaway is not lost, let me tell you the important part now: The best opportunities do not always look like a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. Sometimes — as was the case in this story — the best opportunities are disguised as your worst nightmare.
The man I met on tour that day was a young oncology student from Singapore named Illz Wong Hong Yuen. For well over an hour, Illz and I explored the intricacies of Fallingwater at our leisure, and we spent half the time lost in conversation. At the end of the hour, we exchanged social media handles. To this day, I double-tap every Insta that he posts. He does the same for me. I will most likely send him an e-vite to my wedding. If I elope, I’ll probably invite Illz Wong to be my witness.
I’ve only met him once, but I’ll say it again: this man is a constant, loyal and valuable presence in my life.
I nearly missed out on a life-changing opportunity that day. If I had let Kate fend for herself, Illz would not be my friend today. If I had gone home at 4:30 p.m., my favorite memory as a tour guide would be the time I bumped into Michael Keaton in the Fallingwater kitchen.
Golden opportunities are out there. So the next time you’re faced with an overtime assignment, or an extra research project, or an unwanted errand — I encourage you to find the pot of gold.
I promise it is there. You just have to look for it.
