Fft cindrella(2)
- 1. Management General Presents A Fiscal Fairy Tale By Tom Brown The word went forth as it did once a year, every year, by courier and by whispers, by elevated speech and by e-mail. The King at last had chosen the dates for the major Cindrella meeting of all key players in the kingdom, and so the word went forth. And the word was: Offsite! Each year, the King relished the chance to call together his best knights, his key
- 2. ministers, and his enormous basket of closest advisers for a three-day “surprise” treats awaiting their Offsite at a plush lodge alongside a arrival (courtesy of the King, with the translucent lake. Spouses and other royal stamp waxed upon a personal note). personal guests were freely invited at the There was always something special about King’s expense, as no monetary limits the wrapped cheeses, petite apples, and should ever be set for an Offsite. It was a crisp crackers hidden under the bottle of special time for boundless celebration. expensive wine nestled in the shredded plastic grass. Knights have been known to There were always elaborate spreads of food for each and every meal: carved ham for breakfast, filets upon croissants for Knights have been known to lunch, and enormous shrimp for dinner. Freshly baked cookies and handmade ice weep at this annual act of cream punctuated the meetings in the thoughtfulness by His Highness. afternoons, which only seemed fitting given the delectable just-from-the-oven strudel that came during the morning breaks. weep at this annual act of thoughtfulness by His Highness. Linen tablecloths covered each and every And yet such excellent edibles fell into the table, except in the meeting room itself, shadow of the Offsite itself. An array of where stately stuffed chairs ringed the personalized business goodies always impressive oak table that seemed to intimate that only big decisions were to be made upon awaited all participants. Rich leather portfolios, engraved with each attendee’s its shiny surface. name, served as the place card for assigned When invitees — having come by seating. Those who made the most profit airplane, helicopter, car, coach, or limousine during the current year always seemed to — checked into the lodge, bellmen snapped end up sitting close to the King. to! The arms of all the helpers spiraled Inside everyone’s new case were well- downward as servants bent over to convey, “Your most unreasonable wish is researched and heavily edited status reports on each and every business in the kingdom. my most desired command!” In the lodge, They could be found in separate binders, all who served the King and his consorts knew the King’s men and women expected right next to the monogrammed pens that conveyed the King’s personally picked to be treated like managerial royalty. theme for the current year (this time, “Soar For they were. for More Before Quarter Four!”). Therefore, year upon year, whoops of delight cascaded down the hotel A full entourage of servants ringed the perimeter of the meeting room. Any hallways as guests entered their special message or package or fax assigned lodging and discovered the was conveyed to its
- 3. designee within With such pomp, this seconds. And of those ministers is how the word Offsite became so chosen to present to the others, none revered in the kingdom. Everyone wanted need deign to manage any of the to be invited, and unrestrained screams of presentation logistics: each merely had to joy always accompanied the receipt of a read the script carefully written by minions personalized invitation. Those not invited so that the audio-visual attendants could flip looked on in jealousy and drooled at the flipcharts, move over overheads, slide ahead regal invitation. Then there was Cindrella. With such pomp, this is how the “What do you mean? I say! What exactly word Offsite became so revered do you mean?” shouted Cindrella’s vice president, the person in the kingdom to in the kingdom. whom she directly reported. The VP was so flustered that she slammed down the phone the next slide, or maneuver the mouse in on which she was talking, while synch with computerized graphics. simultaneously conversing with Cindrella. The King sat at the front, of course, in full “I don’t want to go to the Offsite. It’s a view of everyone else so that he could be huge waste of time! I’d rather do real work,” heard in case he wanted to whisper some said Cindrella, her raven locks drooping comment or question of consequence. He down her forehead. Far from being timid rarely did. Instead, hands set upon his rotund about the subject, her phrasing was direct, tummy, he beamed and added an occasional reflecting the common sense that guided her “Ooh!” as each courtly presentation words. announced a level of economic success only “You? You! You... not go to the Offsite? dreamed about at the start of the year — to That, that has never — never — been done which all in the room applauded, even the before. Everyone wants to go to the Offsite! servants. At key moments, most around the It’s what we all live for. It is the supreme table scribbled something short and barely- invitation. To go to the Offsite, to be invited legible on their monogrammed notepads. to go to the Offsite — is the be-all, the very Such fun could continue for hours. Alas, pinnacle of serving the King. You have to the business sessions always adjourned early go to the Offsite! You must. You must. You so the King and company could play simply must!” The VP shouted so loud that croquet, or golf, or tennis, or polo — or her secretary entered her office uninvited, whatever each and every guest wanted to thinking something dire or dangerous must do. It was the way that all could unwind be afoot. before the onerous demands of the When the secretary retreated, banquet and dancing that capstoned Cindrella, her pale face exhibiting each Offsite day. an almost naive honesty,
- 4. stared at the VP and comments are actually openly spoke her convictions and plotting to snatch the King’s job as mind without the least indecision. soon as they can get the Board of “Nope! I’m just not going. Listen, Chancellors to go along. bumming around for three days with a “I just don’t see any reason to go. group of self-indulgent ministers and their Besides, I’d rather wear my worn, comfy insincere spouses just isn’t something I jeans than go out and buy an evening gown want to do. This wasn’t in my contract. It’s for all the ballroom dances.” not in my Statement of Work. I never shook hands on this. Forget it! I’ll stay here; you The VP was indignant and enraged. She still didn’t know what to say, and she surely didn’t know how she’d explain Cindrella’s Gussy yourself up so that every rebellious attitude. How could she possibly prince wants to dance with you tell the King and his top ministers that beautiful and smart Cindrella, her best- before anyone else. performing subordinate, wouldn’t be coming to the Offsite because — because go! Call me if anything happens that I don’t she flat out didn’t want to? already know.” “Cindrella!” she yelled. “Cindrella,” now The VP, whom Cindrella once considered spoken in a softer tone, then rising to a almost a “stepmother” because of the shriek, “YOU ARE GOING TO THE generous counsel she imparted when OFFSITE!” The VP collected herself and Cindrella first came to work, was aghast at held up her hand to keep Cindrella from Cindrella’s stunning illogic. She started to replying. speak, but all that came out was a stuttered “Now, here’s my personal credit card. Buy “Wha... Wha... Whattttt... Wha...” as her whatever clothes you need. They will be on eyes watered from the anger rapidly me. Buy good stuff — the best; I’ll expense blooming on her reddened face. them somehow. Don’t worry about it. Just “C’mon,” Cindrella urged, “you and I both get whatever you need. Gussy yourself up know that everything at this pompous affair so that every prince wants to dance with you is an act — total histrionics — done by before anyone else.” Then, as an everyone to make the King feel like things afterthought, “Why, I know... Cindrella, you are just peachy here. can even fly to the resort First Class! Okay?” “You and I both know that all the glitter and gold and leather and lace and Cindrella couldn’t believe that the VP Sauvignon and snails can’t conceal the thought this was a case of dollars, not real tensions inside this kingdom! Half sense. “With all due respect to the King the knights orating their carefully and everyone down the line all the scripted kisses and way to you, I’m not
- 5. going to the Offsite. “This is Frances Fairy It’s pomp. It’s pompous pomp, and — of Godmother and Associates. We under no circumstance do I want to be do executive recruiting. You’ve probably there. heard of us.” “Why, in those three days, I just might The voice on the other end of the line be able to boost our market share another was perky, even ebullient. This confused point each day by staying here and getting Cindrella, since she didn’t know anything my real job done. That makes overwhelming about Godmother and whoever it was. sense to me! Tell ’em I had to stay home to She spoke with hesitation. “Yes?” help my sisters with a home improvement project.... Tell them whatever you like! “Hey, Cindrella, we happen to have a senior position now open in another kingdom. Based on our research, this would be just right for you — and a huge Oddly, Cindrella was completely promotion! unshaken after the encounter. “Any chance you could fly out for an interview? I can send a coach to pick you up immediately; there’s a plane leaving on “But, for the last time, I’m not going to the stroke of midnight.” the Offsite. “Not! Not! I’m not going!” With those exclamations of finality, Cindrella politely excused herself, leaving her VP stammering some unintelligible patter about “career-limiting moves” followed by “Cindrella! CINDRELLA!” spoken with a detectable level of panic. The End Oddly, Cindrella was completely unshaken after the encounter. She went straight back to her desk and resumed her work, much as if nothing unusual had happened. The phone rang, and at the sound of the jingle Cindrella gulped, thinking it might be her VP, or worse. “Hello,” she squeaked. Illustration and layout by Mac Thornton “Cindrella!” the voice chimed through the telephone line. ©2001 Management General® www.mgeneral.com