It was a veteran client—one of her first, in fact—a very demanding butcher who always wanted everything done yesterday and never paid his bills until she threatened him with a din Torah.

“For me, you’re not working anymore,” he said without any prefacing niceties, something she was used to from him. “I’ll find someone better, cheaper,” he told her nastily.

“That’s fine, Mr. Schecter. Just pay me for the part of the job I already sent you.”

“What part?”

“The updated mailing list of your clients?”

“I’m not using it.”

“Well, that’s up to you. But I did the work, and I want to be paid.”

“You should get off your high horse, lady.”

“I don’t know how to ride. Pay me, or I’ll sue you.”

She hung up, annoyed. I should be happy to get rid of him, she told herself, but still, it rankled. How many times had he begged and wheedled her to do one more job and then one more after that even though he hadn’t paid his bills? And how many times against her better judgment had she given in? Well, this was it, then, and good riddance.

Not fifteen minutes later, the phone rang again. This time, though, it was a new customer for whom she’d completed a small but really excellent little online sales campaign. The pitch had been clever, the graphics stunning. She’d been quite proud of it. He’d thanked her profusely, paid her promptly, and enthusiastically asked for a quote for a great deal more. She smiled to herself. That was quick! She’d only sent the proposal out yesterday. It was very competitively priced, but still a great deal of money she could really use right now. But her smile soon faded. No, he said apologetically but firmly, he had decided, after all, to go with someone else. They exchanged the usual polite regrets. She hung up, surprised and disappointed. Two clients leaving her in the space of a half hour? What were the chances?

She decided to do some laundry and clean up before opening the computer and beginning her morning’s work. The noisy, energetic dance of the loaded washing machine masked the long series of constant dings heralding incoming messages. By the time she’d finished, made herself a morning cup of coffee, and checked her messages, she was shocked to find dozens of her clients had contacted her—almost all of them cutting ties.