I hear a voice in my head telling me what to do. It has a heavy New York accent, curses a lot and sounds just like my first boss, he-who-shall-not-be-named.
Twenty years ago, I worked in New York for the publisher of a magazine. He was … (how do I say this nicely?) … a jerk. He was sexist, arrogant and rude. He yelled at employees and, even in the best of moods, he peppered every conversation with curse words. We, his employees, were known to hide out in the bathroom, sobbing, because he had made us feel stupid. (And no, that wasn't an interpretation; he often used the word "stupid.").
I remember our first real conversation. I was working late, typing up a document for another executive, and he had just finished a meeting in our conference room. As he walked by my desk, he stopped and stared at me.
"What are you still doing here?" he asked.
I was terrified. I was new. Was I in trouble? "I'm typing up something for tomorrow's meeting," I whispered.
"No kidding!" he said. (Well, that isn't exactly what he said, but this is the G-rated version). "Paying your dues! You gotta pay your dues if you wanna be in the club."
"Paying dues" was his phrase for all the things we didn't want to do. It became a joke among his staff: "Did you turn in your report? Did you clean the kitchen? Did you pay your dues? Are you in the club?" I always laughed, but then I would think to myself, "I do NOT want to be in HIS club."
He was a marketing assistant's nightmare, but he was also brilliant, a sharp salesman and a skillful negotiator. I learned everything I needed to know about business from him.
He had a few pet phrases that he barked repeatedly. At the time, I was annoyed: "Come up with something new," I would think. But years later, I realize that it is what Mr. Big preached that has stuck with me.
I went on to business school and worked for other executives, both good and bad, but I have never forgotten the advice and wisdom of my first boss. Now, as a suburban stay-at-home mom, I still hear him telling me what to do. And he is almost always right. It seems that his tenets of business pretty much hold true in life.
When my son asks, "Why were you late to pick me up?" I hear the voice in my head: "Don't make excuses. Nobody ever wants to hear excuses, just apologize."
And when I'm trying to get my daughter to do something, I can hear him: "You gotta spin it, kid. Tell her why she's getting a great deal."
And when I have to give my husband bad news, I hear the advice: "Don't tell me problems, give me solutions."
And when I'm buying a new car, I know what he would say: "Keep your mouth shut. Negotiation is about listening. The more you talk, the more you leave on the table."
Last I heard, my old boss retired to a farm with his wife and daughter. I'm sure getting out of New York has mellowed him. I'm sure fatherhood has softened the rough edges. I sure hope he has learned to curb the cursing.
Recently, when my son spilled his third glass of milk in 10 minutes, I got on the floor with paper towels and I heard my former boss' voice in my head: "Gotta pay your dues!" and I smiled, because now, this is MY club! I will let my old boss join … if he pays his dues.
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