Friday, July 25, 2008
Thursday, July 24, 2008
The Mentor
This morning, I was sitting quietly at my desk, not bothering a soul, when the manager from a different department came sniffing around, with an enthusiastic looking young woman in tow. He walked over to my boss and they conversed for a moment, and then they both looked my way. I quickly averted my eyes, so as to seem like I wasn't watching, but the three of them started coming towards me. I quickly pulled up a work related window on my computer and pretended to be staring intently at it.
"Mike," my boss said, "this is Amy. She's new over in accounting, and if you don't mind, she's going to sit with you for a bit so she can get an idea about what our department does."
"Uh, sure," I said as she stuck her hand out for me to shake. My boss wheeled a chair over for her sit in. She sat down, and we sat in a slightly awkward silence, until it occured to me that I should probably say something. "So, this is my desk," I said confidently. Smoooooth.
She gave me a courtesy laugh. We sat in silence for another few seconds. I asked her about her background, and she said she just graduated from college in May. I congratulated her, and the conversation fell into another lull. "Well...uh...if you have any questions for me, throw them out there."
"Okay...what are you doing right now?" she asked.
"Um...well, right now I am killing time till lunch." She seemed a little surprised by my candidness. She hesitated, not quite sure what to say, so I continued. "I am going on vacation next week. Usually when people are going on vacation, they spend the week before running around, trying to get stuff done before they go. And then the week after, they run around getting all stressed out and forgetting they even went on vacation in the first place. I don't want to be one of those people, so I made sure I won't be."
"How did you manage that?"
"I am glad you asked." My tone surprised me, as I realized I sounded like a Zen master teaching his ways to an eager pupil. "Three weeks ago I looked at everything I had on my plate this month and prioritized it. What absolutely had to be done, I did or made sure was done by the end of last week. What had to be done eventually, I either finished up or pushed out till next month. And what doesn't need to be done anytime soon, I either pushed it way out or delegated it to other people. So basically, I have been spending this week tying up some loose ends, and the week after I get back, I'll just be easing back into the swing of things. It's great. I have two really easy weeks sandwiched around a week on the beach."
She seemed impressed, or at the very least humored me. We chatted for a couple more minutes, before she excused herself to go to the bathroom. I immediately pulled up my gmail account and told all my friends about how some girl was watching me work. Before I could say too much, she came back and I quickly minimized it again.
"What was that?" she asked.
"Oh. That was my gmail account."
"What were those little boxes you had open?"
"Those were chat boxes. You can chat with other friends who have gmail accounts, like instant messaging. It's great for when you're at work, it really helps with the boredom."
"Oh cool! What do you guys talk about all day?"
"We pretty much just bitch about how bored we are at work."
"Oh...."
"Welcome to the corporate world."
"Mike," my boss said, "this is Amy. She's new over in accounting, and if you don't mind, she's going to sit with you for a bit so she can get an idea about what our department does."
"Uh, sure," I said as she stuck her hand out for me to shake. My boss wheeled a chair over for her sit in. She sat down, and we sat in a slightly awkward silence, until it occured to me that I should probably say something. "So, this is my desk," I said confidently. Smoooooth.
She gave me a courtesy laugh. We sat in silence for another few seconds. I asked her about her background, and she said she just graduated from college in May. I congratulated her, and the conversation fell into another lull. "Well...uh...if you have any questions for me, throw them out there."
"Okay...what are you doing right now?" she asked.
"Um...well, right now I am killing time till lunch." She seemed a little surprised by my candidness. She hesitated, not quite sure what to say, so I continued. "I am going on vacation next week. Usually when people are going on vacation, they spend the week before running around, trying to get stuff done before they go. And then the week after, they run around getting all stressed out and forgetting they even went on vacation in the first place. I don't want to be one of those people, so I made sure I won't be."
"How did you manage that?"
"I am glad you asked." My tone surprised me, as I realized I sounded like a Zen master teaching his ways to an eager pupil. "Three weeks ago I looked at everything I had on my plate this month and prioritized it. What absolutely had to be done, I did or made sure was done by the end of last week. What had to be done eventually, I either finished up or pushed out till next month. And what doesn't need to be done anytime soon, I either pushed it way out or delegated it to other people. So basically, I have been spending this week tying up some loose ends, and the week after I get back, I'll just be easing back into the swing of things. It's great. I have two really easy weeks sandwiched around a week on the beach."
She seemed impressed, or at the very least humored me. We chatted for a couple more minutes, before she excused herself to go to the bathroom. I immediately pulled up my gmail account and told all my friends about how some girl was watching me work. Before I could say too much, she came back and I quickly minimized it again.
"What was that?" she asked.
"Oh. That was my gmail account."
"What were those little boxes you had open?"
"Those were chat boxes. You can chat with other friends who have gmail accounts, like instant messaging. It's great for when you're at work, it really helps with the boredom."
"Oh cool! What do you guys talk about all day?"
"We pretty much just bitch about how bored we are at work."
"Oh...."
"Welcome to the corporate world."
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Two Completely Unrelated Thoughts
1. I am going on vacation next week, so I planned ahead. I have pretty much been shooting to wrap up all loose ends by Friday, and then start anew when I get back after a week off. My plan has worked well, but almost too well. I really am running out of stuff to do. When I got back from lunch today, I realized I didn't have much left to do for the day. I estimated that what I definitely had to do would take me an hour, tops, and realistically more like thirty minutes. My instinct was to do everything right away, so I would just have it done.
But this would be a fool's approach, as I would then have three hours to kill with nothing to do but watch the clock. I decided to pace myself, doing a little bit of work then taking a nice long break, before doing a little more. This way I would keep myself kinda busy until it was time to leave. I explained my dilemma, and approach to two different people. One is my friend and former co-blogger Russ, who said "This is why corporate America doesn't work." And he's right. In theory, I could do the work of three people in my department, if I were adequately compensated. But as it stands, I am paid only to do the work of one person, and thus, I spend more time devising my approach to finishing my work than I do actually working.
The other person to whom I explained my dilemma was my friend Laura. Her response was much different than Russ's: "It would be easier if you were stupid." And she's right. If I were dumber than I am, it would take me longer to do certain tasks and thus I wouldn't face the dilemma of having to pace myself so as not to bore myself to death.
Normally, I might expound on the divergence of their responses to my dilemma, but I am operating on two hours of sleep and my brain isn't working so well, and I can't really think of something to say. That leads me to a completely unrelated thought...
2. You know what really pisses me off? People who don't like nuts. What is not to like? There is nothing bad about nuts. They don't have a strong taste. They aren't hard to eat. They don't ruin any dish they're a part of. So, what's the problem? From here on out, I refuse to not put nuts in something I make just to accommodate some unseen consumer who doesn't care for nuts. Sometimes shit just has nuts in it. Deal with it, nut haters. Random, huh? Did I mention I only slept two hours last night?
But this would be a fool's approach, as I would then have three hours to kill with nothing to do but watch the clock. I decided to pace myself, doing a little bit of work then taking a nice long break, before doing a little more. This way I would keep myself kinda busy until it was time to leave. I explained my dilemma, and approach to two different people. One is my friend and former co-blogger Russ, who said "This is why corporate America doesn't work." And he's right. In theory, I could do the work of three people in my department, if I were adequately compensated. But as it stands, I am paid only to do the work of one person, and thus, I spend more time devising my approach to finishing my work than I do actually working.
The other person to whom I explained my dilemma was my friend Laura. Her response was much different than Russ's: "It would be easier if you were stupid." And she's right. If I were dumber than I am, it would take me longer to do certain tasks and thus I wouldn't face the dilemma of having to pace myself so as not to bore myself to death.
Normally, I might expound on the divergence of their responses to my dilemma, but I am operating on two hours of sleep and my brain isn't working so well, and I can't really think of something to say. That leads me to a completely unrelated thought...
2. You know what really pisses me off? People who don't like nuts. What is not to like? There is nothing bad about nuts. They don't have a strong taste. They aren't hard to eat. They don't ruin any dish they're a part of. So, what's the problem? From here on out, I refuse to not put nuts in something I make just to accommodate some unseen consumer who doesn't care for nuts. Sometimes shit just has nuts in it. Deal with it, nut haters. Random, huh? Did I mention I only slept two hours last night?
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Responsible Journalism
The picture above was taken by my camera phone, and it depicts the front page of the Cincinnati Enquirer's webpage today. The featured story is the same story they have been featuring all week: Extreme Makeover Home Edition came to our sleepy little town and built a new house for some family who has a sob story. That's all well and good, if it were a slow news week. Only it's not. This week, the NAACP held it's annual convention in town. This is significant on it's own, but it takes on additional importance because it's an election year and both presidential candidates made appearances. That's kind of a big deal. That doesn't even take into consideration that Cincinnati is and has historically been extremely segregated and has had race riots as recently as 2001. So the fact that the largest and most powerful organization of African-Americans in the country held their annual convention here is also kind of a big deal.
But you wouldn't know it if you only read the Enquirer online. It's not like they ignored the NAACP; if you look in the upper right corner of that picture, you can see a link to a story about it. But all week, the lead story, the biggest story, has been about Extreme Makeover. That should tell you a lot about the target audience and the level of the crowd.
Anyway, it occurred to me today that this whole thing has played out like an article from The Onion. Only if this were in The Onion, the banner headline would read:
CRAPPY REALITY SHOW REBUILDS CRAPPY HOUSE.
And, tucked away in the corner, would be a little story titled:
NEGROES GATHER IN TOWN FOR SOME REASON
Gotta love this place.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Vertigo!
One Friday morning, late last month, I woke up and got out of bed, and promptly fell into the wall. "That's weird," I thought. "This room has never spun around like this before." I got my balance and stumbled to the bathroom, where my dizziness persisted. I went about my morning routine as I usually did, only the whole time I felt like I was inside of a moonwalk at the county fair. I thought that a caffeine jolt would get me straightened out, but after drinking two giant cups of coffee, I was still dizzy. Surely some Advil would work, I thought, so I took five. It didn't work. After that I guessed that I was just tired from the week, and a relaxing weekend would stop the spinning. No such luck.
Over the weekend, my symptoms kind of became clearer. I wasn't dizzy all the time, like when you're wasted and you lay down and the room starts spinning. That would suck. Nausea did not accompany my dizziness, and if anything it made my appetite stronger, as my wife noted when I polished off my dinner and half of hers. Really, what it amounts to is this: I am fine for a while, and then all of the sudden I get lightheaded and lose balance. If I happen to be sitting or laying, no worries. If I am standing or walking, well then, we're in for an adventure. I went to work that Monday, and I realized I have a little problem on my hands. I would look down to fill up my water bottle and have to brace myself against the wall, or I'd be walking and randomly run into someone's desk, or I'd be pissing at the urinal and fall onto the wall of the stall next to me. (The dude taking a dump in there sure was startled.) It's one thing to be off-balance in my own home, but it's quite another to be stumbling around my office like a drunk--at least, not without a medical excuse--so I called my doctor.
I went to my family doctor. Family doctors are generally nice people, but also are generally worthless. He looked in my ears, my eyes, my throat, and based on what I told him, determined that I had some sort of inner ear issue on my right side. He prescribed some antibiotics, in case I had an infection, and told me if it wasn't better in a week, that he'd refer me to an Ear Nose & Throat doctor. I took the antibiotics, and surprise surprise, nothing changed. So I called for the referral, and I finally got to see the ENT today. He did a few tests and determined I have something called "benign positional vertigo." In layman's terms, I think this means harmless occasional dizziness. This diagnosis was much better than "malignant constant vertigo", although I am not certain that such a malady exists.
Anyway, he explained two options: Either go through a series of exercises, where they would basically "reset" the balance stuff in my ear and allow me to return to normal, or do nothing and see if it goes away. I listened to the details of the treatment and, turned off my the idea of any sort of physical exertion, I decided to take option two and wait and see. Besides, I am a 'do nothing' kind of guy. So for the time being (and possibly forever), I will be the guy walking around like he's drunk, only without the inflated sense of self-esteem. Good times.
Over the weekend, my symptoms kind of became clearer. I wasn't dizzy all the time, like when you're wasted and you lay down and the room starts spinning. That would suck. Nausea did not accompany my dizziness, and if anything it made my appetite stronger, as my wife noted when I polished off my dinner and half of hers. Really, what it amounts to is this: I am fine for a while, and then all of the sudden I get lightheaded and lose balance. If I happen to be sitting or laying, no worries. If I am standing or walking, well then, we're in for an adventure. I went to work that Monday, and I realized I have a little problem on my hands. I would look down to fill up my water bottle and have to brace myself against the wall, or I'd be walking and randomly run into someone's desk, or I'd be pissing at the urinal and fall onto the wall of the stall next to me. (The dude taking a dump in there sure was startled.) It's one thing to be off-balance in my own home, but it's quite another to be stumbling around my office like a drunk--at least, not without a medical excuse--so I called my doctor.
I went to my family doctor. Family doctors are generally nice people, but also are generally worthless. He looked in my ears, my eyes, my throat, and based on what I told him, determined that I had some sort of inner ear issue on my right side. He prescribed some antibiotics, in case I had an infection, and told me if it wasn't better in a week, that he'd refer me to an Ear Nose & Throat doctor. I took the antibiotics, and surprise surprise, nothing changed. So I called for the referral, and I finally got to see the ENT today. He did a few tests and determined I have something called "benign positional vertigo." In layman's terms, I think this means harmless occasional dizziness. This diagnosis was much better than "malignant constant vertigo", although I am not certain that such a malady exists.
Anyway, he explained two options: Either go through a series of exercises, where they would basically "reset" the balance stuff in my ear and allow me to return to normal, or do nothing and see if it goes away. I listened to the details of the treatment and, turned off my the idea of any sort of physical exertion, I decided to take option two and wait and see. Besides, I am a 'do nothing' kind of guy. So for the time being (and possibly forever), I will be the guy walking around like he's drunk, only without the inflated sense of self-esteem. Good times.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Conversation With My Wife
Yesterday, the wife and I stopped by the hospital to visit my grandma. Being at the hospital always reminds me of death, and that led to the following conversation.
Me: You know how every time someone dies, people around them will question if they should still do things they had planned before the person died? Like, someone will say "I still think we should go on vacation. Uncle Bill would have wanted it that way."
Wife: Yeah...
Me: What if I died and you said, "I think you should stay home. Mike would not have wanted you to go on a cruise so soon after his death."
Wife: Okay...
Me: You could say, "Mike lived as an asshole and he died as an asshole, and he specifically stated that upon his death he wants everyone to sit around and mourn him for months on end, before they even think about moving on with their lives."
Wife: Nice.
Me: Seriously, why do you even have to ask if its okay to do something after a death? What kind of asshole wouldn't want his family to move on with their lives?
Wife: Where is this coming from?
Me: I am just illustrating how stupid it is to honor dead people's wishes. Who cares? They're dead!
Wife: Remind me never to let you give the eulogy at a funeral.
Me: You know how every time someone dies, people around them will question if they should still do things they had planned before the person died? Like, someone will say "I still think we should go on vacation. Uncle Bill would have wanted it that way."
Wife: Yeah...
Me: What if I died and you said, "I think you should stay home. Mike would not have wanted you to go on a cruise so soon after his death."
Wife: Okay...
Me: You could say, "Mike lived as an asshole and he died as an asshole, and he specifically stated that upon his death he wants everyone to sit around and mourn him for months on end, before they even think about moving on with their lives."
Wife: Nice.
Me: Seriously, why do you even have to ask if its okay to do something after a death? What kind of asshole wouldn't want his family to move on with their lives?
Wife: Where is this coming from?
Me: I am just illustrating how stupid it is to honor dead people's wishes. Who cares? They're dead!
Wife: Remind me never to let you give the eulogy at a funeral.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Getting Old
Tomorrow, the wife and I will have been married for one year. When she first brought it up a few weeks ago, I rolled my eyes and said "Ugh, I know. It feels like twenty." Of course, I was joking, as I am apt to do, but that didn't stop her from relaying the story to my mother. My wife expected my mom to be outraged, but instead my mom shrugged and said, "You knew what you were getting into when you married him."
Last week my wife brought up the anniversary again, and suggested that we do something special. I am a nerd, and can thus incorporate a line from the Simpsons into any conversation, so I looked at her and said, "Okay...we're getting some drive-thru then we're doing it twice!" She was not nearly as amused as I was, so the next day I called a nice restaurant and made reservations for the night of our anniversary, at 8pm.
Last night, around 8:30, we were both sitting on the couch, yawning. We had eaten dinner three hours earlier, when I got home from work. "Do you realize," I said, "that on Thursday we will probably just be getting our appetizers right now?" She shrugged. "So what?"
"If I get home at 5:15, there is no way I'll be able to wait till 8 to eat. Plus, I am tired now. I could probably go to bed right now if it wasn't still light out." With that, I picked up the phone and changed the reservation to 5:30, the time that they open.
If we are catching the early bird special on our first anniversary, I don't even want to know what we'll be doing on our 50th.
Last week my wife brought up the anniversary again, and suggested that we do something special. I am a nerd, and can thus incorporate a line from the Simpsons into any conversation, so I looked at her and said, "Okay...we're getting some drive-thru then we're doing it twice!" She was not nearly as amused as I was, so the next day I called a nice restaurant and made reservations for the night of our anniversary, at 8pm.
Last night, around 8:30, we were both sitting on the couch, yawning. We had eaten dinner three hours earlier, when I got home from work. "Do you realize," I said, "that on Thursday we will probably just be getting our appetizers right now?" She shrugged. "So what?"
"If I get home at 5:15, there is no way I'll be able to wait till 8 to eat. Plus, I am tired now. I could probably go to bed right now if it wasn't still light out." With that, I picked up the phone and changed the reservation to 5:30, the time that they open.
If we are catching the early bird special on our first anniversary, I don't even want to know what we'll be doing on our 50th.
Monday, July 07, 2008
Time Off
One thing I like about the company I work for is that they don't break down our days off into vacation or sick days or personal days or whatever; it's all just paid time off, or PTO as the folks in HR like to call it. I like this because I don't really get sick, so I get to use all my days off for vacation. In order to use PTO, we have to do is log in to the website and request off the days in advance, or else enter time you were out after the fact. And PTO is broken down hourly. If I want to take a whole day off, I enter 8 hours. Pretty simple.
Now, I assure you that I just gave you a brief tutorial on my company's time off policy was not for entertainment, although I am positive that the previous paragraph was the most exciting thing you read all day. Last Thursday afternoon, as people were watching the clock and waiting for the three day weekend to start, Pyramid Scheme Guy was walking by my desk and decided to stop and chat. I have made it abundantly clear that I don't like him, but that only makes him try harder. Perhaps time for a new strategy, but I digress. He started asking me about my weekend, and I mentioned that I was probably going to be cutting out early. He said he would do the same, as soon as he entered in his time.
"Enter it into what?" I asked him.
"The system. Aren't you going to enter in your time," he asked me.
"Oh yeah," I said sarcastically. "I am going to file it under 'L' for Leavin' Early."
"No seriously, you're not going to enter it in?"
"Of course not? Why would I?"
"I don't know," he said. "I always do. If I am late, or take a long lunch, or leave early, I always just enter it in as PTO."
I was astounded. "Seriously? So if you are like 15 minutes late, what do you do?"
"I just enter it as an hour."
"That is ridiculous. They don't care if you're a couple minutes late. How much time have you used this year?"
"Like half of it."
"Have you taken a full day off?"
"One."
"So the rest is just from being late and stuff?"
"Yeah."
"Wow. WOW. That blows my mind. You realize you don't have to do that, right?"
"I just prefer to do it this way. It's more honest."
"Okay dude. When I am taking a full week off later this month to go to the beach, I really hope you enjoy not taking a vacation this year because you used all your time off sitting in morning traffic or waiting in an extra long drive-thru line at Wendy's."
Now, I assure you that I just gave you a brief tutorial on my company's time off policy was not for entertainment, although I am positive that the previous paragraph was the most exciting thing you read all day. Last Thursday afternoon, as people were watching the clock and waiting for the three day weekend to start, Pyramid Scheme Guy was walking by my desk and decided to stop and chat. I have made it abundantly clear that I don't like him, but that only makes him try harder. Perhaps time for a new strategy, but I digress. He started asking me about my weekend, and I mentioned that I was probably going to be cutting out early. He said he would do the same, as soon as he entered in his time.
"Enter it into what?" I asked him.
"The system. Aren't you going to enter in your time," he asked me.
"Oh yeah," I said sarcastically. "I am going to file it under 'L' for Leavin' Early."
"No seriously, you're not going to enter it in?"
"Of course not? Why would I?"
"I don't know," he said. "I always do. If I am late, or take a long lunch, or leave early, I always just enter it in as PTO."
I was astounded. "Seriously? So if you are like 15 minutes late, what do you do?"
"I just enter it as an hour."
"That is ridiculous. They don't care if you're a couple minutes late. How much time have you used this year?"
"Like half of it."
"Have you taken a full day off?"
"One."
"So the rest is just from being late and stuff?"
"Yeah."
"Wow. WOW. That blows my mind. You realize you don't have to do that, right?"
"I just prefer to do it this way. It's more honest."
"Okay dude. When I am taking a full week off later this month to go to the beach, I really hope you enjoy not taking a vacation this year because you used all your time off sitting in morning traffic or waiting in an extra long drive-thru line at Wendy's."
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Still Using Those Law School "Skills"
I work in your standard bland suburban office park. My company is the biggest tenant of the office park, and thus we arrogantly walk around as if we own the place, rather than just lease it. We park wherever we damn well please, which often means that employees of my company brazenly park in front of other businesses. I myself am one of the worst offenders.
Apparently the other tenants have nothing better to do than bitch about people parking in front of their offices, and we got a company-wide email yesterday from our office manager explaining where we could and could not park. Specifically, it said "Do not park in front of the door of another business." Fair enough.
This morning I pulled in and saw two open spaces. One was in front of the door of another business, and one was next to that space. I chose the one next to the forbidden space. Out of nowhere, my office manager came running out to tell me I couldn't park there. "Why not?" I asked, feigning ignorance.
"Did you see my email yesterday? You can't park in front of other business's doors. So, move."
"Oh yeah, I did see that," I said. "That's why I chose this space, and not that space," pointing to the vacant spot next to me. "Didn't want to park in front of their door."
"It's still in front of their door," she told me.
What she doesn't know is that I spent three years training to win such ridiculous, semantical arguments. I don't like to pull out the douchebag law school arguments very often, but I really didn't want to park in the annex, so I did.
"Well if the parking spaces adjacent to the space in front of the door are still considered to be 'in front of the door', then where does it end?" I pointed to the space on the other side of my car, further away from the door. "If this space in front of the door? And if so, what about the space next to it? What is the cut off?"
"I'm not sure," she said.
"Okay then. You should get some clear definitions here as to what constitutes 'in front of the door'. And until you do, I am parking here." And with that, I walked by her and went inside. I am pretty sure she hates me now, which I can handle. Unfortunately, next time I need office supplies I am probably shit out of luck.
Apparently the other tenants have nothing better to do than bitch about people parking in front of their offices, and we got a company-wide email yesterday from our office manager explaining where we could and could not park. Specifically, it said "Do not park in front of the door of another business." Fair enough.
This morning I pulled in and saw two open spaces. One was in front of the door of another business, and one was next to that space. I chose the one next to the forbidden space. Out of nowhere, my office manager came running out to tell me I couldn't park there. "Why not?" I asked, feigning ignorance.
"Did you see my email yesterday? You can't park in front of other business's doors. So, move."
"Oh yeah, I did see that," I said. "That's why I chose this space, and not that space," pointing to the vacant spot next to me. "Didn't want to park in front of their door."
"It's still in front of their door," she told me.
What she doesn't know is that I spent three years training to win such ridiculous, semantical arguments. I don't like to pull out the douchebag law school arguments very often, but I really didn't want to park in the annex, so I did.
"Well if the parking spaces adjacent to the space in front of the door are still considered to be 'in front of the door', then where does it end?" I pointed to the space on the other side of my car, further away from the door. "If this space in front of the door? And if so, what about the space next to it? What is the cut off?"
"I'm not sure," she said.
"Okay then. You should get some clear definitions here as to what constitutes 'in front of the door'. And until you do, I am parking here." And with that, I walked by her and went inside. I am pretty sure she hates me now, which I can handle. Unfortunately, next time I need office supplies I am probably shit out of luck.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
How Not To Succeed In Business
This morning, I arrived at work to find a voicemail from some guy I have been playing phone tag with. This guy works for another company, a company that partners with my own company. I will spare you any further explanation, as the details of the strategic partnerships of my company with others would excite you to the point of hysteria, and I don't want to cause any undo harm. Suffice it to say that this guy and I had to chat about a few things.
Since we had left each other numerous messages, and we really did need to talk about a few things, he said I could call him on his cell phone, and he left me that number. I jotted down the number and gave him a call. Instead of ringing, I heard a recorded female voice: Please enjoy the music while your party is reached.
And then I was treated to the opening bars YMCA.
Young man, there's no need to feel down, I said young man, pick yourself off the ground.
Before I could fully process what was unfolding before me, he answered. "Hello?"
At that point, I did the only thing that I could think of; I hung up. What else could I do? I was speechless. Here I was, calling a respected businessman in a male-dominated industry, and his ringback is a campy 70s disco song with strong homosexual undertones. I figured I must have dialed the wrong number, but then my phone rang, and it was him.
"Hey Mike, did you just try to call me?"
"Uh yeah, sorry, I thought I dialed the wrong number...."
"No, you got me. Anyway, lets get down to business."
I barely listened to him. How could I respect him now? My company was counting on me to make a good decision regarding our dealings with this guy, and his ringback was YMCA. Is that someone we want to be doing business with? If it's up to me, no. And since it was up to me, we aren't. When my boss asked me what happened, I told him the truth. "Something didn't seem right."
My boss shrugged. "Fair enough. I trust your judgment."
Since we had left each other numerous messages, and we really did need to talk about a few things, he said I could call him on his cell phone, and he left me that number. I jotted down the number and gave him a call. Instead of ringing, I heard a recorded female voice: Please enjoy the music while your party is reached.
And then I was treated to the opening bars YMCA.
Young man, there's no need to feel down, I said young man, pick yourself off the ground.
Before I could fully process what was unfolding before me, he answered. "Hello?"
At that point, I did the only thing that I could think of; I hung up. What else could I do? I was speechless. Here I was, calling a respected businessman in a male-dominated industry, and his ringback is a campy 70s disco song with strong homosexual undertones. I figured I must have dialed the wrong number, but then my phone rang, and it was him.
"Hey Mike, did you just try to call me?"
"Uh yeah, sorry, I thought I dialed the wrong number...."
"No, you got me. Anyway, lets get down to business."
I barely listened to him. How could I respect him now? My company was counting on me to make a good decision regarding our dealings with this guy, and his ringback was YMCA. Is that someone we want to be doing business with? If it's up to me, no. And since it was up to me, we aren't. When my boss asked me what happened, I told him the truth. "Something didn't seem right."
My boss shrugged. "Fair enough. I trust your judgment."
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