So--why did my Big Mac taste like sawdust?
Because my need for a number had overshadowed my desire to be of help to a fellow human being.
I knew that when I put "$8,000" on the dry erase sales board in the office, management would only see a number, not the final hopes of a man trying to save his dying business.
And that's all the people at the tables around me were to the banks and the mortgage lenders and the collection agencies: just numbers.
Just business, nothing personal.