Getting the Job Done Effectively, by Evan Jacobson
He just sat there fidgeting in his perfectly crafted Armani Suit. One can see
the bright, Ivory white nails tapping in succession across his bulging
right kneecap. Several droplets of moisture slowly trickled along
his Frontal Lobes as his beady eyes moved quickly from side to side.
“Zach Johnson?” A voice murmured from beyond. There was nothing.
“Zach Johnson here?”
Again, there was nothing.
“Excuse me, Sir. Are you Zach Johnson?”
“Yes. Oh, yes,” he responded awkwardly.
“Mr. Johnson, I called your name and you didn’t respond,” said Tracy Smith, the secretary.
“Well, I’ve been waiting for over 35 minutes,” Zach replied.
“That might be possible, Mr. Johnson. However, the office just opened 10
minutes ago,” she retorted in a puzzling manner.
Once again, time stood still and Zach just stared into nothingness. The tapping stopped. Zach was speechless, his eyes squinted, and he was holding something back. Tracy Smith ran her finger along the clipboard and broke the awkward silence.
“You will meet with the Manager of Operations, Betty Ordower. After that,
you will have a tour of the building. Then, you’ll meet the CEO, Ms. Patience Devereaux. Do you have any questions, Mr. Johnson?”
“No. Yes. Where’s the bathroom?”
“It’s down the hall. Make your third right and you’ll see it clearly marked on the left,” she replied.
“Right, I’ll just take care of business,” Zach said.
“I’m sure everything will turn out just fine,”Tracy said.
She forced a smile.
Zach lifted himself up and scurried down the hallway at top speed. He noticed the glare from the fluorescent lights, the newly tiled floor and the fresh coat of paint on the walls with a remarkable faux finish.
“Well, at least their contractor knows what HE is doing. Where’s the damn water fountain in this place?”
Zach then mimicked Tracy with a nasal tone:
“Make your third right and you’ll see it clearly marked on the left.”
“She is seriously anal and bossy,” he thought aloud.
A woman emerged from one of the hallway’s corners.
“Excuse me, Sir. Who are you talking to?”
“I’m talking to myself while I try to find the bathroom,”he responded.
“It’s clearly marked on your left and it’s about 2 feet in front of you,” she said.
“Thanks,” he replied sarcastically. Then, he slammed the door open, and the noise was heard on the 10th floor.
Several minutes later, Zach emerged from the bathroom and ventured back to the waiting area. Before he could sit down, Tracy was blocking off his former seat and said, “Mr. Johnson, I’ve been waiting 35 minutes for you, and so has Betty Ordower, our Manager of Operations,” Tracy said.
Zach’s eyes squinted and he was caught off guard. A million thoughts ran through hi head. Is she being funny? Was I in the bathroom that long? Are there wrinkles in my suit? Is it still hotter than a sauna in this place?
“I decided to take a tour of the building,” he blurted out.
“That’s nice, but Ms. Ordower is not a person you want to keep waiting. Walk down the hallway, make your first left, second right and third left. It’s as easy as 1-2-3. Try not to take an extensive tour this time,” she said.
“ll keep it in mind, thanks.”
It was time for Zach to leave those droplets of perspiration behind and make a fabulous first impression upon Betty Ordower. She was 5’8, about 47 years of age, and skinny as a broomstick. He also noticed her long black dress, sharply pointed shoes, and broach. God, she looks like my mother. I hope she doesn’t act that way, he thought.
After strolling along the labyrinth, he approached Betty’s door. A long hand extended outwardly.
“You must be Zach Johnson. I’m Ms. Ordower, Manager of Operations. How are you doing today?”
“Fine, I couldn’t be better,” he said.
Zach noticed a firm handshake, amazing confidence, and an energetic aura. Betty carried herself professionally with her head held up high. She also appeared to be very sharp, and not miss any details.
“Have a seat,”she said.
Zach went for the seat but tripped over his own feet.
“Mr. Johnson, you seem to be nervous. Can I get you something to drink?”
After stumbling near the leather Lazyboy, he was most likely considering a Scotch and Soda. He brushed himself off and reexamined his suit for any potentially dangerous flaws.
“Just coffee AND sugar AND cream, thanks,” he said.
“Coffee is only going to make you more nervous than you already are, Mr. Johnson.”
“I can handle it, thanks,” he responded quickly as if he had to get to the finish line first.
Betty squinted and tilted her head to the side. Maybe, Mr. Johnson doesn’t understand the effects of caffeine. He practically fell flat on his face and it took him forever to get to my office from the waiting room. This guy is odd. Hopefully, our interview will be better, she thought.
Tracy Smith enters the room.
“Here you are, Mr. Johnson,” she says.
“Thanks again, you’re a real lifesaver.”
As he tries to take the coffee from her, he knocks the cup off the saucer and it spills on both Tracy and the brand new carpeting.
“Jesus Christ! Can anything else go wrong today?” Zach was outraged.
“At least your Armani suit wasn’t stained,” she retorted.
“What else went wrong today, Mr. Johnson?” Betty’s voice seemed to echo throughout the galaxy.
“Nothing. Everything. Things usually go very smoothly for me,” he said.
“Do they?” Betty was awaiting a reply.
Zach just stood there sheepishly.
“Let’s get the janitorial staff to clean up the carpeting. Tracy, you can drop off your outfit at the cleaners. Go home and change. We can get you covered for about 2 hours.” Betty picks up her cell phone. “Veronica, you need to cover Tracy for about 2 hours. Put the Gallagher project on hold. Hold the rest of my calls for about an hour. Mr. Johnson, we need to get going!”
Betty improvised this new plan in about 10 seconds. Zach was blown away.
The interview contained the usual questions and conversation seemed to flow effortlessly:
“Mr. Johnson, please explain your previous job experiences…What is your educational background? Are you a team player? Where do you see yourself 5 years from now?”
Zach answered these questions professionally while a male janitor scrubbed the brand new carpeting on his hands and knees. It was a struggle for Zach to ignore the janitor as he was thinking about his choice of words and Cinderella.
20 minutes later…
“Well, Mr. Johnson, we got off to a rocky start, but it seems like you might be a good fit here,”Betty said. You’ll need to return to the waiting area for a little while, or you can go to lunch,” she said.
“Lunch is an excellent idea,” Zach replied. “What do you recommend?”
“Chang’s Chinese Grill is excellent,” she said.
“I don’t like Chinese, unfortunately. What else is good around here?”
“There is a Burger Bar around the corner,” Betty suggested.
“That sounds good. I’ll see you after lunch,”Zach said.
He fled quickly and the door slammed.
“I hope he drinks a tall beer to wash down that burger,” she thought aloud.
While Zach was going to lunch, he noticed dozens of pictures containing women with trophies, which surrounded the bright hallways. Interestingly, only one picture frame showed a man with a golden trophy, which stood out like a sore thumb. Only two guys work in this company. “I guess that I’ll be guy number three, he thought.”
* * * * *
He left the thirty story building and felt a buzz in his pocket. I wonder who is calling me now? He opens his Nokia camera phone.
“Hello.”
“Zachary?”
“Yeah, mom.”
“How’s it going with you?”
“Well, I’m GOING to lunch.”
“How long is lunch?”
“Lunch is usually an hour,” he replied.
“Where are you going to eat?”
“I’m going to some Burger Joint around the corner. I think it’s called Bliss’s Burger Bar,” he said.
“What street is it on?”
“Is it really important to know what street it’s on? Give me a bloody break,” he remarked with a high level of frustration.
“Why are you so defensive today?”
“Why do you keep calling me, keeping a tab on me every move?”
“I call you because I care and wanted to hear about the job search,” she said.
“You have nothing better to do except call me and then report to your Mah Johngg friends,” he retorted.
“What’s wrong with reporting to my friends?”
“You always feel the need to control the amount of information so that you feel better about yourself,”he said.
“Oh! So that’s what this is about,” she snapped.
“I guess. I am tired of people questioning my every move. I can certainly take care of myself. That is what a man does. He takes care of business, brings home the bacon, and pays for everything. Isn’t that right, MOM?”
“It’s not my fault that your father left us years ago,” she exclaimed.
“Maybe, if you didn’t annoy him to death, he would still be here!”
“Oh! I see. I annoyed your father and confronted his gambling problem. So my questions caused him to abandon us. That’s a very interesting analysis, ZACHARY. So, ZACHARY, it’s all up to YOU TO BE THE MAN of the house. You assumed the manly role when you were 8 or 9. So, you’re still grinding that axe and I’m the blame,” she responded forcefully and bitterly.
“Someone has to be THE MAN, and it certainly isn’t going to be you,” he snapped.
FINE! That settles it! I am tired of YOUR nonsense, YOUR sarcasm, and YOUR blaming ME for your father’s shortcomings. And since I’m so controlling and annoying, you can pick up your crap that is ALL OVER MY CLEAN HOUSE. YOU CAN ALSO PAY for a cobweb infested storage room near the B.Q.E. In fact, you better get it sooner rather than later before I throw all of you prized possessions in the smelly dumpster in the alley!” CLICK!!
“Hello? Hello?”
The dial tone was deafening, and Zach had lunch with himself.
* * * * * *
Zach made waves with his mother and mashed potatoes through the lunch hour. Every bit was painful to swallow. His mother was unpredictable since childhood. Maybe, she was for real this time? Perhaps, she would forgive Zach because job interviews are stressful. People become emotional and say mean things and apologize later on. Zach’s priorities were very clear: Impressing the CEO, Ms. Patience Devereaux.
Zach paid the check and noticed that his hands were still sticky from the greasy Bacon Double Cheeseburger. He went to the bathroom, reached for the door, and noticed several things.
First, the bathroom door was locked. Second, he had 5 minutes to return to the building. Finally, there was a HUGE, greasy Ketchup stain on his stomach just below his heart.
“Jesus Christ, I gotta go and don’t have time to wait for wonder slug to get out of the bathroom. I’m outta here!”
Zach fled like a cheetah through the jungle. When get got inside the building, he was mumbling aloud to himself like a rambling mental patient at Bellevue Hospital,
“This stain is going to be the end of me–great timing–I look like a damn slob.” Down the hallway, third left, second right, first left, whatever… or here’s the bathroom,” Zach said with a momentary sense of relief.
A sharply dressed woman appeared.
“Excuse me, Sir. Is everything ok?” She asked.
“NO! Things are not obviously OK and I don’t have time to answer these simple questions. Excuse me!”
Zach flew passed the woman and kicked open the bathroom door. He groomed himself meticulously and scrubbed the Ketchup stain like a jackhammer. Then, he lay on the floor to position himself underneath the dryer. While the wind made the moisture disappear, Zach’s watch appeared very clearly: 15 minutes late to his appointment. Perhaps, he could tell them what happened at the restaurant and he get a second chance. Maybe, it was too late. He proceeded to the waiting area, and greeted once again by Tracy Smith.
“Mr. Johnson, did you take ANOTHER extended tour of the building today?” She asked sarcastically; another woman in the next cubicle laughed.
“Actually, I had a problem at lunch. Would you like to hear about my problem?”
“I really would, but I have this thing called a job; maybe, some other time. I’ll tell Ms. Patience Devereaux that your plane has arrived.”
“Great! Great! I’ve been looking forward to this interview for a long time.”
Several, LONG moments passed.
“Mr. Johnson, please come right this way,” Tracy said.
Both of them walked down the bright hallway. They came upon two solid oak doors with brass hardware. As the door opened, a sharply dressed woman was facing a view of the big city. Her back was turned. When she rotated her chair, Zach realized that he met this woman before. They had a conversation earlier that morning:
“Excuse me, Sir. Who are you talking to?”
“I’m talking to myself while I try to find the bathroom…”
“It’s clearly marked on your left and …”
Zach hoped that she forgot the tone of the conversation.
However, she wasn’t going to forget the conversation that took place just 30 minutes ago…
Tracy Smith was about to introduce Zach to Ms. Devereaux, but she cut him off.
“Tracy, I know who this man is. Please excuse us for a bit,” she said.
“Yes, Ms. Devereaux.”
Zach stood there sheepishly and fearing the worst was about to happen.
“It’s such a shame Mr. Johnson that we had to meet this way.”
“What do you mean, Ms. Devereaux?” Zach was playing dumb, hoping that she would magically forget the last 30+ minutes.
“Morning nervousness is normal, but YOU are batting a thousand. Do you know how much it costs to clean a Persian Rug, Mr. Johnson? Do you know how much it going to cost to clean Tracy’s outfit, Mr. Johnson? Finally, how much does common courtesy cost, Mr. Johnson? Do you have FRIENDLY answers to any of these questions, Mr. Johnson?” She asked.
Zach felt like the biggest loser and he was actually beginning to stutter in his mind. He didn’t know which question to address first. Usually, he’s quick-witted and on the top of his game. But this time…
“I usually function at 100%, but I struck out today with the worst possible luck,”he said humbly. I was so sure that everything was going to go well. I felt strongly that I was the right person for your company,” he said, with some false courage.
“And what do you feel like now, Mr. Johnson?” She asked, holding the upper hand.
“Now, I need to step up to the plate and hit a memorable home run,” he said.
“The baseball humor is witty and cute. However, I’m not sure if this is the place for you; it won’t fit you like a glove because YOU want it to,” she said.
“Look, Ms. Devereaux, we got off to a rocky start, but the day actually turned around and became much better,” he said, hoping that a miracle would occur.
Ms. Devereaux was a powerful, sensible, and compassionate lady. However, she felt that her patience had run out for Mr. Johnson.
“Mr. Johnson, I have several candidates to interview, and time is short. We’ll notify you if you’re the right person for the job. Thank you for coming in today. Tracy, please send in the next candidate.”
Zach wasn’t sure what just happened. He thought he was the right person to get the job done, and he might have been… Perhaps, he could connect with his mother and share what had just happened…