I had a client dispute an invoice last month. I’d got them into a prestigious publication at short notice. I took the job before the holidays when I didn’t have the time. But their representative offered more money than I felt was reasonable. They sounded desperate. So, I figured I’d do it. 

Something felt off at the time. I said to my wife when I sent the invoice over, “he’s not going to pay.” And like clockwork when 30 days had come up, he emailed to ask questions. 

People give you advice in a situation like this. It ranges from reenacting scenes from The Sopranos to saying “namaste” and moving on. 

I, for one, am rarely one for burning bridges. In my case, I’m irritated, and I won’t work for the guy again. But I had a conversation with him and told him my perspective. “You can pay it, or not,” I said. “At the end of the day you’re the one with the decision to make. My only power here is how much energy to devote to you. And I want us to reach as amicable a resolution as possible, here.”

But it bleeds over. That sublimated irritation. You find yourself short-tempered in other areas. You can’t help thinking, “this guy’s taken advantage of my good will.” You wake up stewing on it. It takes a couple of weeks to die down.  

For better or worse, I’ve learned, some people are difficult. It’s not your fault. In fact, when you’re a hard-worker or even a nice person, you can attract them. Haters gonna hate. But the one thing I’ve learned with such people is once you’ve spotted them, get as far away as possible. Even if it means you won’t get the money. Even if it means you won’t get what might be “justice.” And accept that stewing on it, even devoting energy to it, is a waste of your time. 

A friend of mine describes it as “buying your peace.” You buy your peace. It’s old advice from an uncle of his. I love it. There’s a guy who works at the bodega where I go for a bagel every morning. His father had a stroke. He told me, “Don’t spend your energy on this guy. Life is short. Enjoy it. Don’t make yourself ill.”

There’s another concept from therapy: That of the “second arrow.” It means, “I’m annoyed with this guy. And I’m annoyed with myself that I can’t let it go.” The trick is not to fire that second arrow. To accept that you’re having a rational reaction, and that you’ll feel better soon. Then, if you’re me, you go and play squash.

Last thought. I’ve done less work for more money. I’ve done more work for less money. Don’t look for logic. Don’t look for reasons. Don’t blame yourself. I imagine this guy wakes up in the morning and disputes everything with everyone. It’s his make-up. It’s how he is. The best possible thing in that situation is to move away from him. 

Meanwhile, I’m a good bloke and I did the best I could for him. I had a statement of work signed. But in New York, good luck going through the court system. It’s the first time this has happened to me in a few years, and I hope it’s another few before it happens again. Namaste.

Thanks for listening to me vent, and I hope it was useful for you. I hope you learned a little bit from my experience.  It certainly felt better for me to share it with you.

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