1984

Bully: Zominick Cortensa
Achilles Heel: Napoleon complex
Modus Operandi: Over powers people through intimidation and the Vulcan mind meld.
Profile: He carried his short, 5' 4" stature with overwhelming confidence. He had plenty of "Yes" people. So he respected people who stood up to him in a respectful manner.
Food chain: I reported to my supervisor, who reported to his supervisor, who reported to the department manager, who reported to Zominick Cortensa
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The office was abuzz with talk of the new senior vice president the company lured away from IBM. Zominick Cortensa was now in charge of a 250+ person technology division, where I worked as a mainframe programmer. I am always amazed at how people get so hung up on titles. So everyone is scurrying around the office to get on the good side of Mr. Cortensa. People only referred to him by his last name with great reverence.

The wheels started to turn in my mind. I wanted to align myself with Mr. Cortensa, but I wasn't going to kiss his ass. There were enough people doing that. "What would happen, if someone called Mr. Cortensa by his first name?” I asked a coworker. With a shocked looked, she said "would you want to risk your career doing that?” Then she says "don't do it while I'm around". Disassociation is always a good way to keep people in line. I asked a couple of other people and received similar reactions. I didn't think about it any more.

Three weeks later I'm at work a little after 7:00AM. Using peripheral vision as I worked in my cubicle, I notice a short well-dressed person flit past. Almost no one is usually in the office at that time. I get up to see who it is. Although he was way down the aisle, I said "good morning". He turned around, cool as a cucumber and walks towards me with all the confidence in the world.

Since I hadn't seen him before, I immediately knew it was "Mr. Cortensa". I make it my business to know everybody in an organization.

He says, "You're in early. My name is Zominick Cortensa". I say "nice to meet you Zominick." As I shake his hand and confidently tell him my name, he corrects me "that's Mr. Cortensa to you." Now I understood why people called him by his last name. He obviously laid down the law about his name to his managers. The orders trickled down to the troops. "No problem Mr. Cortensa, as long as you call me Mr. Reid" I shot back. He looked at me narrowing his eyes as if to say "oh no you didn't just speak to me like that". Mentally I was already packing up my desk, but I was not afraid. Zominick asked, "What's your name again?” I told him again. He smiled and said, "I heard about you. I like you. If ever need anything come and see me."

He was referring to the true story circulated in the office about me. I had started in the mailroom and became the "go to" person in a particular department called "office services". Then I received a couple of promotions before getting the programmer position. All of it accomplished in a little over 2 years.

A month later I'm talking to a few coworkers about a project and Zominck passes by. I say, "How are you Zominick" as I reach over and shake his hand. At the same time I glance over to see people with that "he's not with us" look on their face. They slowly slink away from me. Zominick responds in kind "I'm good. Everything OK? Anyone bothering you?" . . . yada yada yada, we chat for a minute?” Zominick leaves.

A few minutes later those same people come over and want to know how come I get to call him by his first name. I'm feeling confident and cocky at the same time. Hey, I earned it. I ventured where no one else dared to. I say to them "let's just say Zominick and I came an understanding a few weeks back". I left it at that.

I wonder whom they are calling by their last name this week?

Moral of the Story?
Speak up and establish yourself quickly with a bully. This immediately eliminates any misunderstanding about you not being in control of your life. Saying nothing makes them understand they can beat you up for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Fear feeds people a steady diet of mediocrity. You are what you eat.


Copyright (c) C. E. Reid 2004