How not to keep a workforce happy (pt2)

At the time Mr Blonde was re-assuring us of our place deep in the warm and welcoming bosom
of The Company, it became clear the one thing he couldn't supply was the SM structure (remember we were in the Service Management or SM team of the larger Smoke & Mirrors or S&M Department...come on please keep up). This meant that none of us really knew who we would be working for and what the ramifications of Simple Tuesdays fallout would be.

But we were safe. Secure. Guaranteed. No more redundancies.

Of course we were.

Over the next six weeks we had several false dawns. Three times an announcement was due on
the structure of the SM team and twice mr Blonde cancelled. The third time we were called
together to tell us that nothing had progressed. In itself this set the alarm bells ringing and this turned the starting handle of the rumour mill which swung effortlessly into action. Mr Blonde was leaving, Queen Wasp was moving sideways, SM was dead in the water etc. I listened to the rumours, the chief one being that SM was being canned and that Mr Blonde was leaving by his own hand on a point of principle. This was the one I bet on, because it had been apparent that the S&M Leadership Team was far from being united. I mean, are leadership teams ever truly united? In my experience the back-biting, one-upmanship, arse-licking and political manoeuvring is worse at that level than any other. And Mr Blonde was not welcome.

In fact from day one it seemed his no-bullshit, straight talking, common touch style was at odds with the Stepford Manager, smile whilst stabbing, corporate gobbledygook bollocks speak culture of the others on the team. Queen Wasp, to be fair, was a big fan of his because she also has the common touch when required, however she is surrounded by arselikhan wannabees using their current positions as a stepping stone to further their careers. Billyboy is good, he knows his stuff and seems savvy enough to detach himself from the crap. A very astute political player I'd say. But The Rugby Player (big and ugly) is a dangerous person who went from all round good guy, to the full 'Stepford chip insertion' clone, spouting Corporate Gobbledygook Bollocks Talk at any and every opportunity. Aligned with The Drinks Waiter, a 6 foot 8 inch giant of a man from Portugal with zero personality except for brooding Latin menace and people skills to match Robert Mugabe, and Captain Darling, a man so anally obsessed with 'process' and pretty 'swim lane' diagrams and all the managerial skills of Frank Spencer one can only sit back and be amazed at how he landed his role, it's little wonder Mr Blonde was in the firing line. I reckon in any one on one situation Mr Blonde would have dwarfed these three intellectual fuckwits, but up against a combined force he stood no chance.

The last week of April came around and the rumours were at fever pitch. Mr Blonde hadn't been seen for 2 weeks. A meeting was called by Queen Wasp and we can see Billyboy on the list of invitees. This in itself was a cock up, because if nothing was changing then why did Billyboy, the head of another department, lets call it the Dirty Hands team, even need to be there?

Here's why.

At 14:00 on the last Friday in April, 2 hours before the weekend starts we trundle to another building within the Corporate Palace estate to be confronted with Queen Wasp, Billyboy and Mr Blonde. Queen Wasp sets the scene and says that the SM function was being scaled down from the original proposal and that Mr Blonde was leaving, just 4 months after starting. At his own behest! Mr Blonde, to his credit, then stood up and told us that the role and scope of what he'd been recruited for had been reduced to such a small size that he'd decided that it didn't match with what he'd been told to come and set up, so he was off to pastures new. As usual he didn't mince his words, and whilst Queen Wasp sat there, it was obvious she was not best pleased at losing Mr Blonde. When a cabinet minister resigns on a point of principle, doesn't that reflect on the PM rather badly? I was minded of Sir Geoffrey Howe's resignation speech when he left the
Thatcher cabinet.

Queen Wasp, a tad shaken recovered to tell us we would all be in Billyboy's organisation and within 2 weeks we would all know here we sat. We had , of course, only left Billyboys DirtyHands team 4 months earlier when Mr Blonde had started.

There would be no further redundancies.

Of course there wouldn't.

The 2 weeks went by once again. No meeting was called this time. However, several people were invited to 1:1's with Billyboy and someone from The SS...sorry......HR. Included in this was my old boss The Master, but also some others as well.

Guess what?

Redundant. Despite what was said they were all, bar one who actually got promoted, out from that very day. It was a smaller, less vicious version of Simple Tuesday. I may have had differences with them from time to time, but watching them clear their desk , smiling through gritted teeth and saying what an opportunity it was for them still made this a very bleak day indeed. In the case of The Master, a man who embodied every aspect of The Company and lived and breathed every ideal and value of The Company, this seemed particularly poignant. Again, it was the F band Club hit the hardest. They all got good packages circa a years salary in lieu of notice to bump the taxman, plus share deals paid up, cars given to them and preserved staff discounts/benefits for a year after leaving. Very nice. But you still have to find a job, still have to pay a mortgage, still have to feed the family and if, like The Master...and like me...you haven't been in the open job market for over 15 years then it must be daunting to face the savageries of the modern day rat hunt that is finding a new job.

Later, that very day I get the call from The Tub Thumper to tell me she's my new boss. She wants a 1:1.

Things can only get better...can't they?

Later GJ