“Hi Brian”, “Hello. Look, where are you, I need you up here now as there’s a meeting you must be in.” I momentarily wonder if he is calling me on his silly Bluetooth headset, coffee in one hand and red-hot poker in the other. “Just downstairs Brian, I’ve just had lunch with Pete Dunstan and I have good news.” Always good to have a piece of good news handy for when your manager is using a tone that suggests irritation about something. “Good. See you shortly”. I turn back to Lucy and am saddened to end this conversation before I have gathered more information on what her end game may be. “I’ve got to go Lucy. Call me tonight and we’ll talk more.” Lucy has all my contact details but I give her my business card nevertheless. The main reason for this is that I just had new cards made up that would make Patrick Bateman sweat, and I’m really quite proud of them. “Alright I will, talk later.” She says, while brushing my arm. “Oh, and nice card.” She noticed, I thought she would.
The elevator ride gives me a few moments to get my thoughts in order. I’m meeting Brian soon to discuss the new role. Before then I want to know why he acting strangely and didn’t swat Jono earlier like the little irritating little VB drinking pest he is. I also want to know where he bought his shoes. Finally, I need to book an appointment with my tailor. Hopefully Brian just wants to speak to me about something relatively unimportant, however he often makes you believe that everything he needs to speak to you about is life or death. I regularly get the impression that Brian, like many other rat racers, has a picture of his favourite businessman on his bedroom wall and looks to them for advice and direction. Maybe someone like Rupert Murdoch or even Monty Burns, but unfortunately I suspect that it’s, god forbid, Gordon Gekko.
Many entrepreneurs want to be like Richard Branson or Bill Gates, many executives like Donald Trump or Warren Buffet, many singers like Mariah Carey or Beyonce, and unfortunately many financiers like Gordon Gekko. Despite the fact that Gekko crashed and burned in the end of the movie Wall Street due to illegal market manipulation, self-indulgence and greediness, he still provides the blueprint for how many financial rat racers want to operate. True, he was a go-getter, made lots of money and lived life in the fast lane, but he did it mainly while insider trading. It’s a curious choice to want to be like a criminal or someone infamous for cheating. If you wanted to be sprinter you wouldn’t have Ben Johnson as your role model, you wouldn’t want to be like Hannibal Lecter if you were a Doctor, and certainly not Tiger Woods if you were a husband. Still, rat racers want to be like Gekko. Young rat racers did want to be Bud Fox, but then Charlie Sheen ruined those aspirations for people by making that awful show, Two and a Half Men. It may be unfair to paint Brian with the aspiring Gekko brush, but I have seen him wear braces occasionally and he can smoke and drink with the best of them, so that’s good enough for me.
The lift opens and I greet to the young receptionist, whose name I have forgotten because I was too buy remembering the name of the girl who was sat there two weeks before, and then the one two weeks before that. Why must people in admin roles change jobs so frequently? I spot Sarah who is looking at me somewhat nervously and confused. Unusual for her, I normally get the sort of look that suggests she is wondering what colour underwear I am wearing. “Why are you looking at me like that Sarah, and where’s Brian?” She exhales loudly, “He’s in the boardroom and has called a meeting with everyone in the team. We all think something important is happening.” Something important better be happening, two team meetings in one day is hardly my idea of an enjoyable work environment. Still, I have a feeling I’m about to find out what’s up with Brain.
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