Be Careful What You Start
This is one of those stories.
Like all performance-based companies, we have various metrics on how we’re judged. Also like most performance based companies, we have inside terms for what they’re called. For us, that term is KPI’s, or Key Performance Indicators. I could go into how they’re measured, what they are, etc. But that sounds too much like what I do at work already, and I’m not working now, dammit, so you’ll have to best use your own Imagination.
It is a long held adage that people in management don’t really know how to do anything themselves, but know how to get others to do things for you. Thankfully in my business this isn’t true, but a good portion of my job and my boss’ job is to exhort us to drive results on these metrics. It is here where our story begins.
As you might have guessed, all of us managers are competitive, type -A extrovert and we thrive on getting attention and recognition. So to drive results our boss, usually about two or three times a week sends out emails to establish bragging rights. Back in February one of my fellow managers and good friends was at the top of the heap, and I...wasn’t. So the weekly email went out and my friend decided to get his swagger on in e-mail form.
Now, I’m not above getting a good swagger in myself. If I get a big heaping pile of recognition and bragging rights, I’m going to go out and roll in it as much as I can.
But I’m also not afraid of letting something go unanswered either.
So I posted this pic to the email thread.
And said that my mustache would prevail. And my friend was suddenly declared to be mustached.
And wouldn’t you believe it, literally the next day we had switched standings in KPI’s. And as the month progressed, and the emails kept coming out, my friend kept sliding lower and lower in the standings.
And I kept posting more and more mustache pictures to the thread, as bragging rights continued.
And more mustache pics
And MORE mustache pics.
Anyway, I wound up at the top of the heap for February, my friend at the bottom, and by now the Mustache had become a long-running inside joke between us.
I should mention that my boss isn’t the sort of person to take something ridiculous and run with it.
He’ll take something and go galloping away with it.
So you can imagine our considerable amusement, chagrin and bafflement when he showed us the trophy he bought.
And last night, he presented the trophy to the winner for March, to be held onto Stanley Cup-style, until someone dethrones the winner. Also complete with a Certificate of Mustache Authenticity. Needless to say, I was exceedinglyjealous that I didn’t win.
Bottom line, be careful of what you start. You never know when a running-joke will get up and start going on its own.