I've said it before and I'll say it again: all entrepreneurial bosses are the same. Of course, I don't mean it literally - they are not stamped figurines. Yes, they are the same in their principal qualities (aggressiveness, single-mindedness, drive, vision, impatience, arrogance, callousness, etc.), but they are also different people with their own psychological makeups, individual quirks, and human peculiarities. Some can be informal and approachable, others are aloof and snobbish. Some can be intellectuals, while others are simple and limited. Some of them are religious conservatives, others are broad-minded libertarians. Some are healthy and others suffer from an array of ailments. Some like spicy food and others cannot stand a hint of curry or garlic in the air.
There is one universally common denominator that definitely unites all business owners, though - they are employers. And as I wrote in CFO Techniques, one should never cross the line with one's employer, if for no other reason than in appreciation for creating one's job.
So, here is a little anecdote that involves a sociable female business owner, her all-male sales staff, and some spicy food.
First, let me clarify one thing. This woman, tough as nails and brutal in her nature, nevertheless strives to present a friendly and cheerful demeanor to the outside world. Experienced people can see through that veneer and know to watch their steps around her. However, when you get together eight men, even though subordinate, and one woman, even though a boss, the dynamic gets a little muddled. I mean, when they are in a gaggle, it's especially difficult for men to suppress the testosterone. It clouds their judgement and they forget for a hot second what's behind that charming smile.
Oh, yes, and about the food: she really does like it hot. You'd be in a restaurant with her, she orders a dish and then asks the waiter, "Is it spicy?" The waiter smirks, probably thinking, "That skinny bitch will be asking now to make it mild," and answers, "Yes, ma'am, it's very spicy." And she goes, "Could you, please, ask the chef to make it spicier." (Sometimes I actually consider of giving her a present of Pure Capsaicin Crystals, but I know she's going to try them and I don't want to be responsible for the consequences.)
Back in December, she held a three-day sales summit in the company's NYC headquarters - all salesmen came over from their different locations. This usually means breakfasts, lunches, and dinners together. Thankfully, in NYC that's not a problem. The team enjoyed French-Asian fusion, classic American steakhouse, Korean... An Italian restaurant is always a must, since the sales person with the most seniority comes from a Bolognese family.
Unfortunately for the boss-lady, Italian food doesn't offer too many possibilities for extra-spicy. She orders Shrimp Fra Diavolo over linguine, but it's not doing the job. Red pepper flakes are asked for and happily received. She starts shaking the plastic thing over her plate and orangy-red bits sparingly drip out (there is a reason the container is designed this way - one must use the hot stuff with a caution). That's not enough for her - she starts shaking harder and harder... until the top flies off and most of the pepper from the bottle ends up in the sauce. All the men at the table are laughing their heads off - the boss slipped up! Maitre d' sees it (how can you not, with all that violent shaking?) and immediately runs over, offering to replace the dish. The lady refuses and laughs lightheartedly with her "boys" about her clumsiness. She removes some of the pepper excess onto her bread plate and proceeds to eat what, I imagine, is an unbelievably spicy pasta without breaking a sweat.
Six weeks later, the same group of people is on the road visiting their Rust Belt customers. They started in Pennsylvania and are now on their way to Ohio. I'm sure my readers understand that the food scene in the industrial towns of Western PA is not quite the same as it is in NYC. Here you go for Italian because it's probably your best choice. So, there they are again with dishes that vaguely correspond to the Italian names on the menu. This time around the owner's sauce is not spicy at all, but the generic plastic bottle with red pepper flakes is already on the table. She reaches for it and the shaking ensues. The memory of the NYC debacle is too fresh for the boys not to bring it up: "Be careful, don't shake the top off," a few of them warn.
Let me step aside for a second: Just as the bosses' human qualities differ, so are the ones of the subordinates. A couple of them are of the self-conscious type - they simply don't want to be inside a public spectacle again. Others are genuinely concerned about her not spoiling her food. Yet, there are always those resentful, passive-aggressive employees, who secretly cherish the idea of a boss making a fool of him/herself. One of those had his iPhone at the ready.
Well, as you probably guessed, the container's top comes flying again and a half of the red pepper flakes ends up on the pasta. Oh, the childish hilarity! Everybody laughs - some wholeheartedly, some to cover up the awkwardness. The prepared dude snaps the picture and immediately posts it on facebook.
A young salesman who told me about the repeat performance of the pepper flakes show was visibly hesitant and uncomfortable with the whole facebook posting part. I was simply appalled at the disrespect. And what about the owner/CEO herself? Did she fire that rude fucker? Of course not. The emotions should not interfere with business - it's impossible to replace a high-caliber sales exec overnight. But I know this woman very well. She's never going to let it go. You can see it in her unsmiling eyes when she laughs about the whole thing. She is on the lookout: as soon as she finds someone else, the insolent fool will be gone. She will not even flinch; just like she doesn't flinch from the spiciness of her food.