Velociworld

Third Responders

You've heard of First Responders? Well, I am a Third Responder at work. In other words, I won't respond to my customers' e-mails until the third request. I figure they're desperate by then, and deserving of my attention. If I could only figure out a way to reconfigure Outlook to automatically delete the first two requests I'd be a Golden God.

I also cleared my desk today. I am caught up. Of course, I had to throw a two inch stack of e-mail print-outs into the trashcan to do it, but I still feel liberated. There were no third responses in there, so I'm clean.

See, I've noticed that the CEO and Executive VP's have immaculate shining desks (because they don't do a lick of work), and I'm striving for that look. People with work piled up on their desks are fucked. So I threw it all away, and meandered down the corridor to find some Pledge, and buffed up the desk to a high gloss. Then I stood outside my office with my hands on my hips, and glowered at my corporate brethren. It was a beautiful thing, if you are a fan of the crack rock.

And so I find myself reflecting on how I find myself in this position. A few short years ago I was running my own fiefdom in the field, like a fucking Chinese warlord in a far-flung province, with 60 peasants keeping the Johnston & Murphys honed to a mirror-like sheen. I was Kurtz, without the heads on pikes. What happened?

Oh, yes. I remember. They told me it was a Promotion.