Monday
First day as employee of The Walter Group, our new Brit parent. I have had a dime embedded in a block of Lucite which sits on my desk — this is what I'll get as my share of the purchase price for The Armadillo Group — harsh reminder of the perils of paper money along with my billions of shares in defunct CashGrabDotCom. Suppose I ought to be happy to be part of a big, safe corporation, but our new masters are off to a weird start.
Turns out that we're actually part of Tulip-Walter, an Anglo-Dutch conglom, headquartered in Amsterdam. Ken Armadillo makes a terse, prickly speech about how we might be Dutch-owned now but we're still a strategic nose cone and nothing's going to change around here. Everyone claps. Then he walks off the stage with a loud clomping noise — he's wearing wooden clogs! First joke I've ever seen Ken make. Probably a very bad sign.
Tuesday
Down to Doctor & Handle for false teeth fixative team interim preez to Fang and his team of drooling idiots. Act caustic and pissy all day, much to their delight, but head home feeling like the guy who sells five minute abuse sessions in that old Monty Python sketch. (Probably dating self …) Hard to snap out of it while putting Theo to bed, with predictable result that he bursts into tears during my story about a tiger that loses its stripes, falls into a pit, and starves to death. Wife expresses displeasure, dries eyes, blows nose, takes over, while I resort to stiff G&T.
Wednesday
Nasty session with Tulip-Walter legal mafia about our pending suit with terminated analyst Alain Protecteur, who has accused me of telling the world he was smelly (I didn't, he is). They want me to give them dirt on AP so that they can go after him hard. I feel sorry for the kid and don't want to play that game. Some insinuations made about my position if Tulip loses in court. Better hope we settle it first. Head home today feeling just as lousy as yesterday and beg relief from bedtime story duty.
Thursday
Tulip blooms! Great meeting with one of their big Euro clients who may need U.S. strategy help. Exactly the point of the merger, cross-selling synergy, etc. Company makes indestructible plastic boxes for industrial applications, based in Finland. Not exactly exciting but could be big assignment. I pitch our capabilities to seven quiet Finns. Try a few different personalities on them: My caustic version from Fang is a bust, and my brainy segmentation nerd makes them glaze over. Finally hit on seeming slightly drunk, commenting on my slides as a slurred rant. This goes over surprisingly well. At dinner we do in fact all get roaring drunk on Old Wally and I tell lots of beer stories (thanks to Ed Spanks, my first-ever client). Two Finns barf on the sidewalk outside the restaurant and then we all shake hands amid hearty laughter. Looks like a winner.
Friday
Splitting headache. (Duh!) Barely survive the morning, including agonizing lecture from Tulip dullard who explains how to fill in new expense forms, insurance forms, travel forms, lavatory request forms, etc. Black coffee for lunch. Prowl around mall looking for new plush toy for moping Theo. (We found Tigger in the trash can this morning.) Settle on a penguin with beady eyes. Back at the office I have two messages. First, the Finns bit on the worm and want us for six months, ASAP. Second, former superstar analyst Heide Vertig has quit BCG after a month and wants to talk. After so much recent turmoil I wonder if I'm just dreaming, so check my portfolio on Yahoo. Down another 4%, so I guess it's all real.
But don't good things come in threes? Just before five, the Tulip legal mafia phones. Alain Protecteur has agreed to drop his suit in exchange for twenty grand. Apparently our boys threatened that they might have bad stuff on him, and he took our offer. Since I never gave them any bad stuff, I don't feel (too) guilty. I'm off the hook anyway, although I still have to take a course in cultural sensitivity. And as Meatloaf once sang — two out of three ain't bad. (Certainly dating self, no way this diary ever leaves my briefcase.)
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