“MAD MEN” meets the Greeting Card Industry
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Exerpted from Chapter Nine The Boss: "I believe your story."
After Jack had taken his seat again, Alan leaned back in his high-backed leather desk chair and raised his eyes to the ceiling. “Jack,” he began, “when I said at staff the other morning that it was too early for you to receive a performance review, I was misspeaking. “Here at Heartland, when we bring in new senior people we are directed to make a preliminary evaluation after two months. “Since it’s been about two months since you came on board, I wanted to make you aware of this.” Alan was playing the eye contact game and Jack was determined not to look away first. Of course, Alan never looked away, he never even blinked. “Overall, Jack, I feel that, with your background and intelligence, you have a lot to offer this company, and as I said, fresh ideas are always welcome. It would be unfair to be critical of your adaptation to Heartland’s systems and philosophies this early in the game, so I wanted you to know that I’m not going to comment on that. Except perhaps, to say that I think it wouldn’t hurt you to burn a little midnight oil if necessary to speed up your understanding of the greeting card business in general and lettering in particular. Enough said about that.” Jack nodded, his face a mask. Alan continued, “I think it’s only fair to tell you that there has been one disturbing issue that’s come to my attention. I do not intend to pass it on to Clark Parsons because…well, just because.” “What is it?” Jack asked, unable to keep the puzzled look off his face. “I heard a rumor, and you know how I despise rumors, so I wanted to get this out on the table.” Alan was staring intently at him. “On your recent research trip to New York, did anything go on between you and Mary Beth Herrmann?” “No.” Jack was shocked. “Of course not. We went for a walk together one night when the rest of the group went to a show.” He shook his head in disgust. “Jesus, Alan, she’s half my age.” Alan’s face was expressionless, “She’s married too, you know.” “I know that. She wears a wedding ring, for Christ’s sake. She’s a nice kid. We talked for a couple of hours and that was it. Who told you any different?” “Calm down, Jack. I believe your story.” He paused, pursing his lips. Then he said, “As you get to know me, you’ll find that I’m a tolerant man. But the one thing I will not tolerate is a lack of integrity.” Jack was silently furious. Alan went on, “Being a senior manager at Heartland Greetings is in many ways like being a public figure. Heartland sets the highest standards, and extremely moral ones, for its employees. You are living in a fishbowl, and the appearance of misbehavior can be as damaging to your career as the actual misbehavior itself.” “Misbehavior? Jesus, I know that,” Jack said, his voice rising. “You’ll forgive me for being upset, Alan, but I’m getting a talking-to over something that never happened.” Exasperated, he sat back in his chair, “Forget it, Alan. Thank you for the advice. Anything else?” He was grim. Alan leaned forward, “Jack, I’m telling you these things for your own good. I need you to succeed so that I can succeed. A chain is only as strong as its weakest link and we all need to pull together so that we all can succeed.” “Right.” Jack stood up. “Are we done?” “Yes, I think so.” Alan stood up. “After Betty has the performance reviews typed up, I’ll have her bring them to you for one last look-through.” “Fine.” Jack turned and walked out the door.
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