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‘I was expecting someone older,’ he tells me baldly. ‘Your company said they would be sending a consultant with considerable experience.’ He doesn’t actually make air quotes as he says that last bit, but they hang in the air nonetheless.
For a moment, I’m unsure what to say. This isn’t the first time a client has done a bit of a double-take when meeting me for the first time, but nobody has been quite so bluntly dismissive before.
‘I’ve been in the business for over eight years,’ I explain as I follow him through the security barriers. ‘In that time, I’ve worked with a number of leading retailers around the world, especially in the grocery sector.’
‘Hm,’ is all he says as he opens a door and gestures for me to enter. Inside, there is a long table with a number of people already sitting at it. A couple of them glance up, but most of them appear absorbed in their laptop screens.
‘Everyone, this is Athena Littlejohn from Next Generation Retail Solutions,’ the man announces unenthusiastically before turning to me. ‘We’ve kept the chair in the middle free for you. There’s a lead if you want to connect to the screen. I assume you’re going to give us some kind of presentation?’
‘If there’s going to be a presentation, I’m out of here,’ a man at the end of the table announces, shutting his laptop with a snap. ‘Call me back when we’re discussing something important.’
I’m completely knocked off balance. I don’t mind having to lay out my business credentials to a new client, but this lot seem positively hostile, and I haven’t even said anything yet. I need to rescue this situation, and fast.
‘I, umm, wasn’t planning on giving a presentation this morning, actually,’ I say, trying to inject some badly needed confidence into my voice as I sit down.
‘What are you going to do then?’ the man who collected me from reception asks. I’m trying to remember if he told me his name, but I’m pretty sure he didn’t. I make a point of trying to remember names as soon as people give them to me, as I find it really helps to break the ice if you’re seen to be making the effort.
‘Normally, in the initial meeting like this one, I like to find out a bit about each of the people in the room and also get a feel for what your end goal is with this project.’
‘I’m not playing any stupid icebreaker games either,’ laptop man announces with a sneer. ‘I already know all I need to about most of the people here, so why don’t we just skip to the bit where you tell us all about yourself and how clever you are, and then we can get down to brass tacks.’
I’m speechless. I mean, there’s direct but this is just plain rude.
‘No icebreaker games,’ I assure him, trying as hard as I can to keep my voice calm and my face neutral. ‘It’s just helpful for me to find out a little about what your roles are, so I can make sure we’ve got the right people in the room for each session.’
‘That’s my job,’ reception man says bluntly. ‘You just tell me what the sessions are about and I’ll make sure the people we need are here. We’re all extremely busy, so you can rest assured I won’t be wasting valuable resources on this.’
Of course he won’t. I’m seriously starting to wonder why I’m here. Let’s see if turning the conversation to the project will soften him a little.
‘Tell me a bit about what you’re hoping to gain from the new system,’ I suggest, taking the cap off my fountain pen. Some of my colleagues think I’m hopelessly old-fashioned taking notes on paper with a fountain pen, but I like the way the nib swishes across the page and, as I point out, a notepad doesn’t suffer from battery issues or break irretrievably if I drop it. Right now, it’s also a kind of comfort blanket.
‘The end goal is simple,’ reception man says, as if the answer should be obvious even to a patent imbecile such as me. ‘We want to make more money and take better control of our inventory. Didn’t they tell you that before you flew out here?’
Bloody hell, this guy is determined not to give me a break. Is he always like this, I wonder, or did he just have an extra helping of grumpy-flakes for breakfast today?
‘They did,’ I reply coolly. ‘But I can’t help you do that without understanding the specific challenges you’re facing. Every client I work with wants to increase their profits, but the levers we can pull to achieve that vary depending on a variety of factors. So, I’d like to spend some time understanding your business and the specific challenges you’re facing. That allows me to tailor the design of the solution to fit you, rather than just forcing through some kind of standardised practice that might not work for you. Does that make sense?’
Come on, you bastard. Give me something here.
‘So what you’re telling us is that the standard solution doesn’t work unless we pay you a load of money to customise it?’ he asks.
‘No,’ I tell him, trying desperately to hold on to my temper. ‘What I’m telling you is that the system is flexible, and I want to make sure it fits your business perfectly before I leave.’
‘Hm,’ he grunts dismissively. ‘When you say flexible, I hear expensive.’
What is the matter with this guy? I wonder.
* * *
By the time we wrap up at the end of the day, I’m completely shattered. I can safely say I’ve never encountered a work environment as toxic as this before. The two dominant voices in the room all day have been reception man, who I finally found out is called Jeremiah, and Leon, also known as laptop man. Their evident dislike of me seems only to be eclipsed by the positive loathing they seem to have for each other, and there have been a couple of occasions where I actually worried they were going to get physical. What was even stranger is that nobody else in the room seemed remotely bothered by the open warfare between the two of them. I still have no idea who most of them are or what they do, as Jeremiah found different ways to shut me down every time I tried to find out. Given that they’re all supposedly extremely busy and valuable, I can’t see how watching him and Leon verbally knock six bells out of each other could have been considered a good use of their time, but nothing about today has made sense at all.
Normally, at this opening stage of a project, most of the people in the room are at least interested in what a new system might do for them, but the only piece of valuable information I’ve managed to glean is that this was imposed on them by a shadowy ‘higher-up’ called Sarah, who is evidently too important to attend the workshops herself. If I were going to be unkind, and I think I’ve probably earned the right after today, I’d describe Jeremiah as Sarah’s lapdog-cum-enforcer, there to push through his boss’s will, even if he evidently doesn’t share her views on the new software. Leon, on the other hand, appears to be representing the people who actually use the system, and his main agenda is that absolutely nothing should change for them, which is unrealistic at best.
I’m feeling distinctly despondent as I run the gauntlet of traffic-light vendors and beggars on my way back to the apartment. I’d been so looking forward to this trip, envisaging myself sitting at one of the glamorous wine bars at the Victoria and Alfred waterfront, with a perfectly chilled glass of white wine, admiring the view of Table Mountain in the background. Instead, I’ve been locked in a stuffy room all day with a load of people who don’t want me there, and the reality of sticking the car into yet another secure underground car park in order to sit by myself isn’t nearly as appealing as the fantasy was. I don’t normally mind my own company, but this is one of those times when I’d really value having someone to chat through the day with and help me decompress.
I’m making a mental inventory of people I could call as I park the car and ride the lift up to my apartment. Hebe has plenty of experience dealing with difficult people but I don’t want to disturb her on honeymoon, Mum will just use it as an excuse to carry on her diatribe about how I need to give up all this travelling and settle down, and Troy and I don’t tend to talk about this stuff because it’s all a bit too close to his old life. For some reason, I find myself thinking of Nathan, the guy I met in the gym this morning, but of course I have no idea which apartment he’s in and I’m not about to go knocking on random doors to track him down. Apart from anything else, it would give quite the wrong impression. I just want to hear a friendly voice; I’m not interested in anything more than that.
In the end, the decision is taken away from me as my phone rings just as I’m pouring myself a glass of wine to take out onto the balcony. I’m normally pretty strict with myself about not drinking during the week unless there’s a reason, but I think today counts as a reason, don’t you? I glance at the caller ID and smile.
