You have to understand, we have a long history with P. When Bob The Moron retired as head of IT, he hand-picked P to make sure people would remember him fondly. It worked. P was our first-line manager for six years. In six years, he has spoken at least twenty words to everyone else's one, driven the staff to the point of mass mutiny, alienated our customer departments. He is far more interested in his opinions than anyone else's. So, last year, he was promoted to second-line management, and we were assigned to Ed.
Ed is cool. Ed listens when you talk. Ed wants to hear your ideas, not just shoot them down. Ed believes that we should keep our customer base happy. Ed doesn't drag out meetings for an extra twenty minutes with his own eloquence. I am much happier working for Ed.
Well, P was down at the southern Lab all week, doing 2nd-line manager stuff, and decided that as long as he was here, he should tour the provinces. So, he told me he'd been in the office Friday morning to talk to all of us.
Now, except for Jerry and me, *no*one*is*in*the*office. They all work from home nowadays, at least two and sometimes four days a week. So, I get to round up my colleagues and my customer managers, and get them all together for a meeting.
I stopped off at a store and got some cookies for the meeting. I *always* get cookies when I call a meeting. I want these people to want to be there, and to not consider me an enemy, and food is a useful and subtle way of influencing good feeling. P was amazed. I don't think he had ever heard of such a thing. This is despite my mentioning in the meeting announcements for five years that there will be cookies.
So he starts out telling the managers how he wanted to meet with them, hear what they had to say, 'to keep Jerry and John honest heh heh." F* you, sir, may I have another? Chris and Dana and Ana, do you want to keep them honest, too, or are we the only two that need insulting today?
Our customers have known us for almost ten years, they are VERY happy with the job we do, and they make no bones about telling him this. So, after about 45 minutes, they escape.
P wants to have a meeting now with all of us, to hear what we have to say. We sit back down among the remains of the cookies and he starts to talk. And continues to talk. And explain what he meant. And justify his decisions. And reiterate the goals he's set for us. And emphasize how he wants to hear from us. He has not paused long enough for anyone else to get a word in for thirty minutes, at this point.
Finally, he runs down, or his hemorrhoid forces him to quit. I don't care which, I would have welcomed a meteor landing on Market Street just to end that meeting. Oh, he has mentioned the discomfort his 'rroid has been causing him to everyone, including the women, several times. Such a delicate touch he has.
Since we're all here, let's go have lunch! I wish to state that every other manager I can think of, in these circumstances, who has gone to lunch with his or her staff, picked up the check as a matter of course. I don't think it crossed his mind.
Our personal Dementor is on his way home tomorrow, and may it be a long day and a long walk until I see the sky over his head again.