The 25 Body Type Diet

The Body Type Cafe

A Conversation with a Spleen Body Type

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Listen in on the Body Type Dialogue!

Imagine yourself surrounded by soft jazz, cushy chairs and hot mocha espressos. You've just entered your favorite cafe - and you're there to curl up, relax, and eavesdrop on the latest! This is no ordinary cafe with ordinary conversation. Each one of our Body Type Dialogue stories illustrates how the different body types think, react and deal with each other. You may read a story about a Heart man gushing over a cute latte-drinking Adrenal girl. Or, a Thyroid man may be discussing his marketing budget with his Lymph supervisor. Wherever the conversation leads you, you'll come away with a better understanding of the 25 Body Types, and learn how they may react in real-life conversations.

We hope you enjoy these whimsical stories and they help you gain a deeper understanding of the 25 Body Types.

"Not Acceptable"

"She's not going to like this", Rebecca thought.

"Special Events, this is Sandy".

"Sandy, this is Rebecca. I need to see you in my office immediately. Can you get away?"

"Sure. Sure I can. What's up?"

"I'd rather tell you in person. Would you come over right now, please."

"Be there in five." Sandy hung up the phone. "That didn't sound so good", she thought as she left her office to find the crew supervisor to tell him she was leaving. With the Body Type Conference Awards Banquet only two days away, last minute deliveries and details made leaving for even a few minutes a major challenge. But as a Spleen body type and a manager, Sandy wouldn't have it any other way. She loved being indispensable and always had the energy to match.

The conference manager was on the phone when Sandy walked into her office. Rebecca motioned with her hand towards one of the chairs. Sandy tried to sit down but her large frame would barely fit the smallish chair. Besides, Sandy was feeling uneasy. She got up and paced the room until Rebecca hung up the phone. Sandy looked at her boss. "So what's happening?"

"That was the Convention Center manager. He confirmed that the banquet facilities will not be available to us."

"Will not what?", Sandy shot back, her tone irritated and disbelieving.

"I am as surprised as you are, but they had a fire in the kitchen last night and repairs won't be complete in time for our dinner."

"Not acceptable!" The volume of Sandy's voice rose as she spoke, "Don't they realize we have over 300 confirmed guests and as many as 200 others who expect to eat dinner?"

"Of course, they do." Rebecca's tone was uncharacteristically soft in an attempt to sooth her friend's agitation.

Sandy sat awkwardly in one of the chairs and stared up at the corner of the ceiling, thinking. She was silent for several moments. When she finally spoke her voice was calmer. "No problem. We still have time. We can have Body Type Cafe prepare the food and cater it on site. Considering the circumstances,

the convention people should be OK with that."

"That would work, except that there is so much smoke and water damage, they're closing the entire banquet facility for at least 3 days."

"Fine." Sandy's voice started to rise again. "We'll rent out some space in one of the nearby hotels. It'll be a nightmare trying to herd everyone over there but it can be done. We're organized, we can handle it."

Rebecca was starting to feel bad for her manager. She knew it would be like this. Sandy was a real operator, not given to quitting. After all that's why she hired her. It was going to be painful to order her to cancel the dinner and arrange refunds. "The convention people searched all over town for an alternate site before they even called me. There's nothing available that will work. We have no other choice. I am canceling the banquet."

Sandy looked hard at Rebecca. "No way. We can't do that."

"Please, Sandy, don't make this any harder than it already is. I've made up my mind. We have no other options."

Rebecca could see the frustration and disappointment in Sandy's face. This was to be the crowning event of the conference - a showcase affair, serving 500 people, the first ever Body Type Banquet, complete with keynote speakers, awards and an evening of dancing. This idea for the awards dinner was Sandy's and they had both worked nearly a year to put it all together. Rebecca felt heartsick as she watched small tears form at the corners of Sandy's eyes.

Sandy shot up from her chair and slammed her hands on the front of Rebecca's desk. "Give me one hour. Just hold off and give me one hour to come up with plan B, OK? Can you give me one hour?"

"All right. All right. I can do that. If that's what it'll take to get you past this. That will be fine. Take an hour. Take 2 hours. But that's all. We have less than two days to try and cancel this thing with some grace."

"Not acceptable," Sandy called behind her as she flew out the door and headed back to her warehouse staging area.


"George!", Sandy called to her crew supervisor, "Gather up your people and take them out for pizza on me. I need all of you gone for a while. Put signs on the doors for the vendors and transfer the phones to voice mail. I want this place quiet for the next hour."

"Sure, Sandy. No problem, everyone will like that. What's going on?"

"I can't explain right now. I'll be able to tell you more in an hour or so when I know what's happening myself."

"Sure thing, boss."

"And, George, wish me luck, would you?"

Sandy didn't wait for a reply, the glass panel rattling as she slammed her office door. Sandy threw herself down into her oversized office chair, the throne, everyone called it. She wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand and picked up the phone, ready to dial. "But who?", she thought as she felt her heartbeat

quicken. "Impossible situation; no problem. This is what I do best." Except for the dial tone, Sandy's mind was blank while she waited for a name to come to her. Suddenly Sandy imagined herself walking the streets in rags. A failure. The woman who canceled the Body Type Banquet. Then a name popped into her head - Johnny. And then an idea! "Yes! That's it. Johnny can pull this off", she nearly shouted as she dialed information, "Johnny's Street Scenes, please."

"Hey, Johnny, this is Sandy with Body Type."

Sure, Johnny remembered her from his last street scene. And, yes, he could certainly understand what a mess she was in. He thought it could work. Nobody had ever tried it, but why not? Ten or fifteen calls and a couple of favors later, Sandy had plan B laid out and with a half-hour to spare. She headed to Rebecca's

office. "Now all I need is Rebecca's OK, overtime staff for two days and some money", she thought optimistically.

"So, Sandy, did you come to terms with the situtation?" Rebecca started.

"Hardly," she responded, looking straight at her boss. "You've known me for quite some time, no?"

"Yes, I'm glad to say I have."

"So you know I'm a serious person and I'll follow through on whatever I start no matter what it takes, right?"

"That's right."

"I've come up with an Idea for saving our banquet. It may seem a little far out and to do it in a day and a half will take incredible effort on our parts, but I think it will work. I just want you to listen to the whole plan before you make a decision, OK?"

"That's fine. Let's hear it."

"All right. Here's plan B. We have our dinner party out on the street!"

Rebecca's eyes flew open in surprise and as she opened her mouth to remark, up went Sandy's hand. "No No. No. You promised. Now listen. This is great."

"Three weeks ago I attended a street fair put on by Johnny's Street Scene. It was small and was sponsored by half a dozen local businesses.They just closed off a couple of streets to traffic and parking and had a big party. I was fascinated with how it all worked so I introduced myself to Johnny and talked with him for quite a while about how he does what he does."

"So when I was trying to think of what we could do, I thought why not have our dinner party in the street, like a street fair. I called Johnny and he thought it could work and he'd be willing to help us. He made some calls and arranged with local merchants to shut down one block of Fifth Street, across from the convention center. He contacted the City and they gave him a verbal OK on permits for that night. The only restriction is that we have to be open to the public. We could charge anyone who wants to join us $10 or $15 for a Body Type meal. Otherwise all we have to do is cough up $250.00 each for the two restaurants on the block; $50.00 each for three other businesses; some city fees; insurance and we've got it. Johnny's can provide tables and chairs and the convention center said they would be willing to provide settings for 800 at no charge. I'm sure the performance bond payment from the convention center will more then cover costs. The way I figure it, we may even make some money on this. Weather forecasts are sunny days and warm clear nights. We can set up displays and information along the street and invite the press as well as the public. This could turn out to be a great PR opportunity. Our permits include having a band so our dance can go on as planned. We'll have the PA system so our speakers and awards ceremony can also go as planned."

As Rebecca listened to the detailed plan unfold she shook her head in wonder.

"What. What's wrong?", Sandy stopped to ask.

"I'm just amazed. That's all. This is going to work. I was ready to write off a year's effort and deal with a whole bunch of unhappy campers and you just saved the day. I'm very impressed. Really."

"Thanks for saying so, Rebecca. But we'll see how happy you are two days from now. I don't think either of us is going to get a minute's sleep between now and then."

Now it was Rebecca's turn to sound excited, "Well, then let's get going. You have my OK for the plan as it stands. Get me some numbers and I'll cut you some checks. How's that?"

"That's acceptable", Sandy called behind her as she flew out the door.

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