Stories from Cubeville

Culture Clash

Once upon a time I needed a colleague to do something for me. I wrote her a careful email memo describing clearly, succinctly, and cogently what was needed and why. No reply. So when I visited the company HQ soon after, I requested to see this person to discuss the issue. "Set something up with my admin," she said.

The admin assigned me the one half-hour that week when this person could see me. I arrived punctually at her cubicle. No sooner had I sat down than the phone rang, and she spent the next ten minutes talking to someone else - ten minutes of my precious half-hour. Finally done, she turned to me. "What can I do for you?"

"Did you read that email I sent you a few weeks ago?"

"Let's see... Ah, there it is. No, I haven't had time to read it yet. [reads for a bit] Why don't you just tell me what it's about?"

I took a deep breath, and began clearly and carefully and cogently to explain all over again exactly what was written in the email she hadn't read.

"Hold on a minute," she said, reaching for a notepad and pen. "Let me capture this." And she began taking notes...

I don't remember now whether I ever got whatever I had been after. I do remember the blinding revelation I had while walking back across the corporate campus to my own cube. She had been wearing a flowered dress with a lacy collar. Her cube was decorated with gentle, misty pictures and sweet, pious quotes. And there I had sat, completely out of place in my black pants and sweater, black cowboy boots and a black leather jacket. That particular working relationship was doomed to failure.