In the Spring of 2000 I started a design studio called Odd Man Ou...t. Already I have to qualify that word – studio. Truth is, my studio is a dump. It's been broken into three times already. The first time they stole my CD player. Then they came back for my CD's. Then the third time, they came back for my change dish. Probably a homeless person who didn't realize my change dish was full of Canadian change. Or maybe he came from Canada.

Anyway, that's where I do my work. I'm not sure if the joke is on me or my clients. It has been a wonder to me that I even get clients at all. I have a harder time getting laid than getting clients. Corporate America has been kinder to me than most women.

I used to call my studio "Odd Man Ou...t" as a description of me. Now I realize it describes my clients too. All of my clients are the Odd Man Out in one way or another. Very few of them are normal. I mean that in a good way and a bad way.

Truth is, they have to be crazy to work with me. I mean, lets face it: I'm not what you expect to see when the word "consultant" is used. I don' t wear a suit, and I've given up on trying. I wear a cap so much (even in meetings) that people are shocked when they see the top of my head. And it's not because there's anything unusual about the top of my head. It's simply because – oh my God! It's the top of Ahmad's head! On top of all of that, I'm the only black heterosexual male who can't dance or play basketball. And if I'm "cool" – as all self-respecting black men should be – it's a secret to me and those who love and support me.

And despite all of this...my clients still hire me. And they tell me that I'm good at what I do. And I'm beginning to believe that they're telling me the truth.

Maybe I am good at this shit.

That would be a life saver.

The world will not tolerate a black man who can't dance or play basketball ...unless, of course, he has some other talent. But even then that's pushing it.