I am not sure what my wingman looks like.
In a moment of distraction and not thinking, I left my keys in the bike and blissfully walked away. My mind was focused on meetings with potential investors and clients of a new start-up. As I walked, my mind was centered on the complexity of the message, who were allies in the conversation as well as who were potential adversaries. I thought I had everything important with me.
The first meeting went well. We progressed the ideas, agreed on actions each would take as next steps, and considered potential challenges that we could encounter. The second meeting unfolded in the best kind of ways. It wasn’t until we were wrapping up that I reached for the keys.
Nothing.
The normal go-to location, right trouser pocket, had keys but not the ones I was looking for. My computer bag was a second possibility. Eight searched pockets later, I had no more than when I started. A search of the immediate area as well as a trip back to the first location and a conversation with the waiter concluded without the bike keys in hand.
As I slowly walked towards my parking space on the street, I wondered what I was going to find. As I rounded the last corner, I could see the bike. As I got closer I could see where I might have left the keys, however each location was empty. I wondered who I could call and where the back-up keys were located. As I reached for the phone, something within me suggested that I check the inside of my helmet.
My wingman had stashed the keys where he knew I had to look. Without a sound, my lips and heart formed a thank-you and I look up and around. Other than me, no one seemed aware that my wingman had saved the day.
The psalmist posed a question; “Who will take me to the thick of the fight? Who’ll show me the road to Edom?” (Psalm 108.10) My answer is simple; my wingman.
