I thought I’d apply my Relationship Management responsibility at the peon Happy Hour last Thursday. If you recall, I redefined this managerial skill-set to “Social Engineering.” I used this as the perfect opportunity to develop and grow personal relationships with the men beneath me in the workplace, for the workplace, outside of the workplace. This was my way of garnering the trust, loyalty, and dedication from the peons I was going to need to get all of my FY08 initiatives off the ground and fully executed at a “discount” rate; meaning without a full hit against my annual budget (it was already reduced). I need to maintain my “cool factor” with them and make them believe I have their backs. And what better way to do that than to get totally shit-faced and obliterated with them…and I can chalk it up to a Team Building exercise. But for starters, I should probably stop referring to them as “peons.”

From my first Happy Hour crash, I was able to quickly identify four distinct groupings of the men I’d be dealing with here and I will refer to them as follows:

Yes, The Indians have their own classification as they can or cannot fit into any of the other groupings. It’s hard to tell with them since they’re just happy to be working in the good ol’ U.S. of A and they’ll adapt in accordingly. It’s important to understand who you’re dealing with to ensure you’re efforts are going to be effective. For example, I can’t shoot the shit with a Dilbert on Hollywood Hot Spots or rave about Guitar Hero…nor can I make any recommendations on the best steak houses to The Indians. Get my point?

I join the fellas at the local Irish Pub. Sounds cliché, I know, but we were actually at a local Irish Pub. The Happy Hour Crew [H²C] occupies just about a quarter of the second floor, directly across from the bar. There’s a backdoor entrance with a staircase that leads you directly to the H²C. I use this entrance to get a preface on the goings-on’s from all the smokers. Barry’s usually the first to greet me since he’s more than a chain smoker. He’s a Wild Hog. Standing on the steps with a Corona in one hand and a Marlboro in the other, Barry always offers me a smoke and gives me a rundown of who’s inside. Nice guy overall but always carried a look that read “what do I tell the wife tonight?” or “I need to get laid.” And likewise, I always give him a pat on the shoulder and tell him to stop thinking about work, even though I know he’s not thinking about work and really thinking about an excuse to give the wife for coming home late or thinking of how he can get laid without the other party being his wife. But he doesn’t know I know that. He finally blurts out,

“Why do women turn into a wet blanket after marriage?”

At this point, I knew my plan was working. The second they start talking about and sharing stories about their personal lives coins the exact moment of them trusting you.

“Well, let’ see…is she a lesbian?”

“God No!”

“Does she have anything against lesbians?”

“No, I don’t think so, but I don’t see what or how lesbians have anything to do with my original question.”

He stood there puzzled as he used his cigarette to light up another, anxiously waiting on my response,

“Boredom. She’s fucking bored Barry. Let me guess, you start off on-top, pump like a mad-man, flip her on all four’s, pump like a mad-man, you get yours and it’s over. How far off am I?”

“Not very…I’m listening…”

By this time, Ashiit, an Indian, Nick, a Woodcock, and Tom, a Dilbert, joined us on the back staircase. They migrated out earlier to have a smoke while engaging in their own conversation and positioned themselves just a few feet away from Barry and I. I remember hearing Nick telling stories of how he just banged one of the contract analysts and her sister, on separate occasions, within a 72 hour period. That conversation ended as soon as the “L” word flew out of my mouth. I caught a glimpse of Nick out of the corner of my eye when I said that. I knew it would catch his attention. (He’ll be an easy play, by the way.) Now that I had perked everyone’s attention, I proceeded with my explanation.

“All you’re doing is fucking her. She’s your wife. Wives don’t want to be fucked, they want to be made love to, even though you don’t know the difference she does. They all do.”

Tom conquered,

“She’s absolutely right. Had I known that 20 years ago, my marriage…”

Barry interrupted,

“…would have been saved?”

With hopeful eyes, Barry turned to Tom,

“No asshole, my marriage would have never happened. None of them would have. I like to FUCK and that’s all I ever liked doing!”

Nick burst out laughing and raised his mojito in a toast…

“Here’s to fucking! Yeah!”

All but Ashiit raised his beer bottle…

“Ashiit, did you hear what I just said?”

In his Punjabi accent,

“I do not feel comfortable raising my beer bottle for such topics.”

To finish the conversation, Barry asked,

“So if I can’t tell the difference, nor will I ever be able to tell the difference, what are my options?”

The men had closed in on me and were really depending on my response…

“Get her to like being FUCKED again. Sure you’re going to have to schmooze a little but she’s got to feel like you just want to ravage her the same way you wanted to when you first started fucking her.”

“Ahhhh…but I still don’t get how lesbians have anything to do with anything.”

“Once you successfully get her to the ‘FUCK ME’ stage again, and she really starts to open up freely, you could bring in a lesbian to keep things interesting, more importantly, to keep your wife interested. And she’d only go for it if she was in the ‘FUCK ME’ stage and if the lesbian didn’t pose a threat. And you could watch.”

Ashiit dropped his beer bottle, Nick began drooling, Tom maintained his ‘I fucked myself by getting married’ attitude, and Barry looked at me with such admiration and praise.

“Same time same place next Thursday guys? See you in the office tomorrow, oh and Ashiit, how quickly can you throw a database together for project reporting and managing financials?”

“As long as you have the specs ready I can get on it this week. Do you have specs?”

“Crap, no, not yet, it’s ok, don’t worry about it. Thanks anyway.”

Nick jumped in,

“I’ve already got something Ashiit. It was for another request but it’s essentially the same thing.’

“You rock guys! See you tomorrow.”

And just like that, one of my target objectives was going to be delivered in a few days versus the 3 months that was projected.

This, my friends, is Relationship Management at its best!