Rage Against the Machine: Part III

This is the third in a four-part series of buzzes that recounts my experiences as a maverick manager working within the constraints of corporate America. You'll laugh, you'll cry and, perhaps, get an idea of how the country ended up with throngs of voters backing Donald Trump for president.

My arch nemesis was now out of the picture, but his ghost would return to haunt me, leading to my next rage against machine. It was a suicide mission, but I wasn't quite ready to start pushing up daisies.

I came to work the next day to discover someone new in the general manager's office. I didn't recognize him, but the former general manager's cronies did. He was the general manager from another facility and they had a history. He called a mass meeting, introduced himself, and told us what the near future held.

He was going to serve as an interim manager and that he was going to manage both facilities at the same time. I thought that was going to be rather interesting, with the facilities being more than an hour apart. When the cat's away, my team would play -- a double header. But, that was far from the most interesting development.

One by one, he called us into his office. I was last. He wasted no time in telling me how he saw me fitting into the new landscape. He told me that part of his plan, devised through input from the former general manager (his cronies) and the regional vice president, was to demote me to an assistant manager It was a position I'd already held for three years at my former facility. I was about to pay the price for my maverick ways. Well, maybe not.

Apparently, I had become a well-known malcontent. I can't imagine why?  On top of that, he was bringing in a manager from his facility to assume my position, and he expected me to assist him. That was it. I'd had enough.The former general manager had bad mouthed me to the regional vice president and, without any firsthand experience with me, the new guy was going to take their word for it, and demote me on the spot. I immediately decided that, no matter what, that wasn't going to happen.

The Suicidal Rage

I stood up (I prefer to assume the high ground before an attack), looked him straight in the eye, and told him that the scenario he outlined was not at all acceptable to me. Before he could even respond, I asked him if he wanted me to submit my two-week notice or if I should just leave today? It was his choice. It felt liberating. I thought my mother would be proud. It also felt like I had just tied myself to the executioner's post, slid the blindfold down over my eyes, and began the countdown for the firing squad.

 After the initial shock subsided, he paused, then said, "Well, we don't have to go that far. Let's talk about it." I agreed. I told him that I wasn't about to impart the hard-earned knowledge I had acquired in order to make things easier for my replacement. As soon as I have him up to speed, you'll have no further use for me, I added. If he's such a hot shot, he can learn it on his own. I certainly wasn't going to take a bullet for him. We went round and round for a while and ended up back at the same spot. So, again, I asked the same question, fully expecting him to choose one.

"Tell you what I'll do," he said. "I'll give it some thought and we'll discuss it, again, tomorrow." At this point, I had nothing to lose, so I agreed. I felt very empowered. I had raged against the machine for a second time and was still standing. My adrenaline remained pumping as I exited his office and returned to mine. However, I couldn't help but think I'd foolishly fallen on a hand grenade when no one else was in danger.

The only counterpart who I had struck a friendship with, soon arrived at my office. Like me, he had been sent from another facility to assist in the turnaround. Ironically, he had come from the same facility managed by the guy I'd just gone toe-to-toe with.They knew each other well.

He told me his former boss was similar to mine, having competed with one another to remain general managers of the highest ranking facilities in the country. Corporate considered them Gods. He was a stand-up guy and admired displays of passion and confidence. A medical discharge had forced him to retire from the 82nd Airborne Division. He had really screwed up his back in a training jump.The next day, I found out my counterpart was right.

The Tide Turns

I was called into his office shortly after he'd arrived the next morning. I was asked to sit down and consider an alternative to the previous day's fiasco. He said he knew there were a lot of things that needed corrected in order for the facility to move forward and he needed someone he could trust to help him make it happen. He needed a combination of Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce and Walter "Radar" O'Reilly. 

 He said he thought that person was me, as a sly grin came across his face.

He said that I would take orders only from him and that he knew some of my counterparts were not to be trusted -- the former cronies. I was dumbfounded. We closed the deal with a strong handshake.Technically, I would retain my current title, with the same pay and perks, such as the company car and fuel card. 

But, best of all, was that I could make life miserable for the former cronies. They were happy just to stay employed.

I would be a manager-at-large, with duties assigned by him alone. He was a maverick, too, because there was no such position as far as corporate was concerned. But, he fought to make it stick after he found out corporate was on to him. When you're a producer, you get what you want. I soon learned that he had a reputation, too, and it was holding him back from his next promotion. We were kindred spirits.

My first assigned duty was to attend to our aging fleet of 22 delivery trucks and six company cars. Without them, we were dead in the water. Until now, it had been the part-time responsibility of another manager. He was happy to relinquish the responsibility, although he had, basically, ignored it. The cars and trucks were only attended to when they broke down, which was continually.

By the end of my first day, I had discovered that 38 out of our 40 drivers, including the cronies, did not possess the proper licensing or the required medical certifications to drive our trucks .Managers were required to fill in on routes as needed. My friendly counterpart and I were the only ones who did. Our entire operation could have been shutdown had their been a surprise state or federal inspection. 

Within two weeks I had those issues resolved. At the end of the fiscal year, fleet expenses came in well under budget, even though I wasn't made privy to what the budget was until the following year. Our so-called interim general manager, who held the position for nearly two years, made a point of relaying that information to upper management. Our partnership worked like a well-oiled machine and my accomplishments were being noticed by corporate. What a surprise that must have been. But, they probably figured that they'd have to keep a close eye on both of us.

A New Morning

When the new general manager finally arrived, I was able to retain my at-large position He had been the interim general manager's assistant manager. He had been managing the other facility.in his boss' absence. As a result, he knew all about me and was encouraged to leave well enough alone. He did. We also worked well together. He had begun his career at my original facility, but had been promoted to the other facility before I started. We had heard of each other, but had never met.

He expanded my duties and put me in charge of saving accounts in jeopardy. Business retention and sales topped the list in regard to numbers that needed to be achieved and maintained. Corporate thought, for once, was correct. It's easier to retain current business than it is to acquire new business, especially if the loss was a large, high-profile account. Lose one of those under your watch and you'll come up missing, too.

By then, I had the fleet running on autopilot. My other assigned duties, which still changed according to need, became rather routine, too. That's why I was assigned bathroom duty. It wasn't a punishment, it turned out to be a long-running practical joke. He was always getting the best of somebody. It was a welcome change from the days of the horse's ass with teeth.

He would text me that a light was out in his office and that I'd better get it replaced as soon as I returned from whatever adventure he's sent me on. When I returned and flipped on his lights, I'd find a McDonald's milk shake, or something similar, waiting for me on the corner of his desk.  As you can imagine, we got along famously. We were successful, too.

To find out how this nightmare turned fairytale ends, please read the final buzz in this series.