No Invitation to Dance

The client is in Cube City for a visit, but I won't be meeting the people I've been working with by phone for the past year and a half. I won't be involved in planning meetings. I won't be included in company-paid lunches or dinners. I won't get to know these people over a beer or two at a company-sponsored "team building" happy hour. No. I'm just the lowly writer who sweats out the work while smiling and nodding through the criticism, contradictory feedback, and a paltry lunch of PB&J and water.

The thing is, I feel like I should want to meet the client. But the thought of meeting the client makes me feel a sense of doom and gloom. I guess I just want to be invited to the dance. But I don't really want to dance with these people. They have two left feet, they can't lead, and they don't know the steps. They'd just tumble over me and turn the whole thing into a roller derby, and I'm not interested in skating around these punks.