The Frustrated CFO

CFO Folklore: Don't Let the Boss Argue Your Case for You

In a small business with a flat organizational structure, where every exec performs 10-15 jobs, there is always a possibility of timeline conflicts.  It's like cooking ten dishes on a four-ring range: eventually you run into a point when the same burner is needed for two pots.  Which one to put on?  There is really no such a thing as a right decision at times like that - you must simply follow your instincts.

Let's say your are in the final stages of negotiating a Credit Agreement renewal with your main institutional lender.  It's Thursday, 03/13.  You have scheduled a meeting with the bankers, their attorneys, and your own esteemed corporate lawyers for tomorrow afternoon to press on with a few remaining crucial changes before the deal is released for the approval by the bank's Credit Committee on Monday, 03/17. 

At 5 pm your phone rings:  It's your tax attorney hesitantly letting you know that his team must meet with you urgently tomorrow, because they just figured out that the company may have tax exposures in Illinois and Wisconsin; the extensions are due on Monday, 03/17 (somewhat hysterically); and, he is very sorry to tell you, but he is not quite sure about this and that's why they need to seat down and read you into the details of the Code, so that you can express your opinion, because nobody understands the business better than you do.  No, it cannot be in the morning, because it's tax season and everybody's schedule is full as is; only the afternoon is workable for everyone who needs to be there (except you, of course, but who cares).

By the time you hung up, it's too late to reschedule the bank - most bankers leave at 5 pm, just like the government.  Now, you've got a dilemma.  Bank or taxes?  Of course, you can tell the tax lawyers to suck it up and do their well-compensated jobs without getting you involved.  Yet, you cannot - that's not how you do.  But the bank is incredibly important: the last stages of negotiations are the hardest, because nobody wants to give up the last frontiers.  On the other hand, you are literally the only person in the company who can express taxation opinions.  At least the owner has been in a tandem with you on the contest of wills with the bank.  However, he is easily mauled by financial predators if he is left on his own.                  

But what are you going to do?  It's the balancing act - you have to optimize.  You cannot be in two places at the same time.  So you decide that the tax meeting is the one you must attend and send your boss to the other one alone.  And, of course, you prep him on Friday morning.  You go over all important points of the agenda with him and outline your position on every issue (in writing, for better retention).  Then you silently pray to Hermes/Mercury, the patron god of all CFOs, and go on to your appointment.

You don't disturb him during the weekend, but as soon as he shows up at work on Monday (around 1 pm) you pull him into your office.  "Well, tell me," you inquire.  He beams at you: "Oh, it went very well.  They practically accepted all the conditions on the list you gave me.  You should have the amended Term Sheet by tomorrow morning."  You are cautious: "Practically?"  And he clarifies, "There is one item.  They said they couldn't do anything about migrating from weekly reporting to monthly.  But I figured that was okay, right?  Just this one thing?  And what?  It's like a nine-line report, or something?  Probably a few buttons on your system, right?"         

Well, it's actually a 52-line statement with 5 supplemental schedules. It takes two of your staff accountants several hours to update all raw data and 2.5 hours of your valuable time every Friday to compile the reports. This was one of the top 10 most important items you've introduced into the negotiations right from the start.  Of all items that's what he decided to let go?  And what is it with bosses?  Why do they always assume that everything you do is effortless - fast and easy?  Just because you are toiling away without making any fuss?! 

You feel like Zorg from The Fifth Element.  "I am very disappointed!!!" growls Gary Oldman inside you.  If you want something done correctly, you'd better do it yourself!  Unfortunately, you don't have his powerful ZF-1 under your desk.  So, instead of simultaneously throwing flames and blasting freeze-rays, you grab your phone like a weapon and calmly explain, "These weekly reports end up costing you a lot of salaried hours that can be used more productively otherwise.  So, let me call and talk to them about it again."      

Funny Thing Happened On the Way to Ohio, or That Picture of Your Boss You Posted on facebook

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.

CFO Folklore: A Male Applicant with a Banker's Resume? No, Thank You.

Sometimes when you open a certain topic, it becomes hard to move on to the next one.  So, again about bankers and genders...

When we hear the word "discrimination," the first thought that comes to our mind is "unfair."  Indeed, in it's most common definition of the last 150 years, discrimination is understood to be an unfairly different treatment of a specific group of people.  We think: race, ethnicity, gender, social class, origin, sexual orientation, wealth, etc.  This is the type of discrimination that I just fucking hate.  And I am not saying this to be politically correct: I truly am a serious opponent of an inequality based on anything other than talent and merit (please keep this in mind as you read on).

People forget, though, that the word "discrimination" has a much older meaning and can be defined generally as a "recognition and understanding of the difference between one thing and another;" frequently even more specific: "the ability to discern what is of high quality."  Truth be told, under this definition I have discriminating tastes - in many things, but especially when it comes to judgments of people.  Particularly, when I have to act as a hiring manager.  

I discriminate against dullness, stupidity, and narrow-mindedness.  I've mentioned it many times in this blog's posts and I spelled it out in the Human Resources section of CFO Techniques: what I really look for in the eyes of a job applicant is a sparkle of intelligence. 

Because of that, I find myself discriminating against a very specific group of people, namely men with a banking background.  I try to refrain from generalizing - it could be my own unfortunate experience with this occupation, but, from my point of view, it is largely populated by male bankers who are limited, slow, and intellectually lazy.

Nowadays, the term "banking" signifies so many different things - every major institution dabbles in several "satellite" industries: investment banking, all sorts of trading brokerage, insurance, etc., etc.  So, to avoid the confusion let me clarify that I'm talking about the plain old conventional bankers, whose job is to keep the excess of your funds in their "vaults" and to sell you money when your needs exceed your availability.  These are your commercial loan officers, relationship managers (RMs), business development VPs.

And, of course, these are primarily men, who are not motivated to rise above their genotype.  Why should they?  They've got the upper hand by default. Women must claw themselves into the tight boy's club.  If they succeed in doing so, they are not only eager to do a good job, they also move to the more sophisticated areas and specialties: treasury management, foreign exchange, trade finance operations, investment banking, etc.

Back in the day I used to blame the inertia of male bankers on liquid lunches: 20-25 years ago they literally worked from 9 am to 12 pm in the office.  Then they would go out for lunches, with clients or with each other, order martinis, and from that moment on the drinking wouldn't stop until evening.  Being intoxicated obviously doesn't make anybody more alert, expedient, or add urgency to one's attitude.  But this banking trait was squashed long time ago - the liquid lunches went away, yet the quality of work remained the same.  Maybe they stopped drinking on the job, but the productive hours remained the same - and it's just so much you can do between 9 and 12.  But are they awake even during those three hours?  

I went with one of my clients (a wiry, fast-talking businessman, who still wins sprinting competitions in his age category) to a meeting with his RM from PNC Bank.  I swear to God, this banker exceeded even my expectations: he epitomized the idea of an "empty space" and he seemed to be half-asleep.  I got a distinct impression that whatever we were saying to him literally entered his left ear and immediately flew out of the right one.  After the meeting I tried to warn my client - I said, "Your Credit Agreement just started.  Before it's too late, please try to ask for the RM's replacement.  You will not be able to work with this guy.  You are going to hate him."  He didn't think that he needed to bother with such "trifle things."  Now, two years later, at least once a week I hear, "Oh, my God!  I cannot stand that guy!  I cannot deal with him - it's like he is in a coma." 

Coma!  That's even worth than half or fully asleep!  Yet, it is true.  I always complain about the lack of urgency in the majority of workforce everywhere, but for this group of institutional employees it's an epidemic.  Here is something from an email exchange between my other client and his RM (with copy to me):  "We initiated this matter with you last summer, almost 6 month ago, and it is mind boggling to me that you could write today that you 'are still in process of writing up the formal approval.'  Ironically, the only related matter for which the bank had no hesitation to proceed post-haste was to deduct legal fees that appear unjustifiable from our account."  Do you sense the level of frustration? 

But lethargy is not even the worst of their traits.  Sometimes I wonder if these people are specifically picked to be so, for the lack of a better word, unimaginative.  I was talking to this one banker recently about his client, explaining how important it is for the company, which deals in bulk liquids, to lease tanks near Georgian ports: when a shipment arrives a hose can be hooked directly from the tank to the vessel and the product can be pumped out at a minimal cost.  A couple of days later he writes to me: "I remember you said they had a tank in Atlanta..."  Atlanta?  I laughed out loud.  It's fucking 250 miles inland!  Some hose would that be!  On the other hand, he is a banker in NYC - Atlanta is probably the only city in Georgia he remembers from his geography classes.      

It couldn't possibly have always been like that.  In the old times conventional banking was entrepreneurial, risky, dangerous business.  A banker who took your money into his safe kept his gun in the holster under the jacket at all times and used his shrewdness and guts in determining whether you worth a loan or not.  And yes, he would hire a meek dude for the back to count money and keep books.  And that guy needed to be meek, so that he would be too afraid to steal.  But even that quiet mouse had to be nimble with his fingers to count money and he had to have quick reflexes to be able to duck for safety when the shooting ensued.      

That's it, isn't it?  It's the cancerous growth of the banking business into these giant monsters that we, corporate financial executives, are forced to deal with now.  They are too fucking big and they need to fill all the seats, so they hire entry levels straight out of colleges (out of specific colleges on their specific lists) as long as they meet the GPA and internships criteria.  And nobody is looking into their eyes: are there any sparks, or they are just good at memorizing textbooks for a hot second and taking tests?  After that it's a hit-or-miss game: the brightest go for stars and big money, but more routine tasks go to the dullest contingent.  And they do that for years: sitting in the same positions, performing the same limited tasks; without the necessity to develop new skills or mental abilities; slowly crawling up the long ladder according to their tenure, never reaching real intellectual heights before their retirements.

It seems, however, that some of the more entrepreneurial banks have finally started realizing that they are being drowned by the incapable, half-asleep, idiots, and they are trying to correct the situation.  As I said in my February 20th post, the number of women in the relationship management is increasing exponentially, and I just met two people who came into institutional finance from M&A.  Well, good for the banks then.  But if they don't want to hire (or keep) the industry-grown nincompoops, why should I? 

Executive Gender Equality: The Perversity of Admiration

Ever since this company made into a couple of 2013 national lists of the fastest growing entities, we have been accosted by a slew of various business services offering their assistance and support: insurance brokers, real estate brokers, HR management providers, marketing consultants, etc., and most notably for me - bankers. 

The troubles that befell the banking industry a few years back resulted in its consolidation.  The competition among the diminished number of the key players in the field of institutional finance has stiffened.  They are fighting for clients with proven records of steady profitability, growing equity, and assets with high market liquidity, which, of course, are not that easy to find in our "recovering" economy.  Hence, they are after our business.

All the better for us: We are approaching the expiration date of the credit agreement with our current lender and are looking for a relationship that would be a more suitable match to the fast-growing company.  So, I'm doing what I've done quite a few times throughout my career: I'm meeting with a lot of bankers - explaining the business, answering their drilling questions, providing them with extensive data, spinning the info in the most thrilling way. 

While all this is going on, I cannot help but notice the increased percentage of women in the banking mix.  Well, that shouldn't be surprising, actually: according to many statistical reviews, more than 50% of the corporate middle management in this country are presently females.  I hear from our own sales staff that purchase managers of our customers' (industrial sector, by the way) are predominately highly technical women in their 30s.

Of course, as we climb further up the ladder, the numbers diminish: men dominate upper management to the extend of 70-80%, and only 10% of the C-level executives are women.  Still, I used to be the only "skirt" in a room full of male execs and financiers.  Now, there is a female contingent on the opposite side of the table in 3 out of 4 meetings.  Hell, the founder/CEO of this company is a woman.  Hence, our board of directors is 50% female (her and I) - we are the tough side of the directorship.   

So, here I am in our conference room listening to two representatives from one of the 10 largest banks in the world, who are making a presentation of their proposal (aka a Term Sheet in business dealings).  One of them is a diminutive woman of Korean origin in her late 50s - she is the boss, the North-East Regional Director, a big gun brought on to get the deal closer to the finish line.  With her is one of her many subordinates - a young and ambitious man in his early 30s.  If I end up choosing this bank, I will get him as my Relationship Manager (RM).

The menagerie is balanced by a man at my side - COO/owner/our CEO's whity husband.  He has his full charm on: he cannot help it - he has a soft spot for Pacific-Asian women.  Now he admiringly "complements" the banker-lady for being deceptively tough, i.e. looking pretty and soft, while being steely behind her eyes.  I tense up: here goes seclusive male chauvinism, and you never know how a woman will react to it. 

She handles it beautifully, though:  "Well, you know how it is - brain and beauty combined are lethal."  She turns to me: "Right?"  Well, I wouldn't know - never got a chance to rely on no beauty, just my brain.  But I don't say that.  I just smile. 

I wish my COO would do the same, but he somehow takes it as an invitation for further "admiring."  "Yes, you are absolutely right.  I couldn't put it better myself," and he embarks on telling the bankers how his wife, our CEO, is especially successful in sales because she is a woman who can speak "sweetly on the phone."  He actually uses those words.  "It used to take me," he says, "four phone calls before Dow Chemical would call me back.  But she  sweetly leaves a voice mail and they return her call within 5 minutes!"

He is absolutely overjoyed with pride.  The Korean lady's mouth gets very thin and she looks at me again -we both know: this is how it is.  The men will always find the way to treat us as if we were inferior, whether through insults or with "compliments."

I am disgusted, but I'm willing to dismiss this on the principle "forgive them, for they know not what they do."  And right then he turns his head to me, looks straight into my eyes, and says, "You cannot repeat it outside of this room.  L. always gets very upset when I say this, even though I mean it as a good thing."

Seriously, dude?  You've been warned about it before?  By your wife, who is also your boss?  And what?  You cannot help yourself?  Of course, you cannot, because it's written into your genetic code, like a primal instinct.  And you are too insecure to consciously fight it off!  If it was me...  But she is not me, in many ways she is very different.  And that's why he'd financed this business for her.     

Snippets from a Corporate Party: Disappearance of Secure Professions

The Frustrated CFO goes to a corporate party and during cocktails mingles with bankers, all kinds of brokers, execs from various industries, business owners, etc.  Everyone exchanges cards, handshakes, hugs, or cheek-pecks depending on the length and the warmth of the relationships.  Some people talk shop, some solicit business and/or advice, some boast about themselves and/or their children, some discuss the Super Bowl without much enthusiasm (it's NYC after all - we only got excited when we saw our very own Eli Manning in the stands watching the event turning miserably for his brother).  Many, of course, discuss the weather - it has been an appropriately cold winter, which makes the clueless schmucks unhappy.

The Frustrated CFO does her duty of actively participating in this business-social hubbub.  She doesn't even have her cards out, because in this room everyone knows her and she knows everyone.  This is great - no pressure, no awkwardness, no need for ice-breaking: she freely rotates herself around the space joining a conversation here and there, mostly listening to others chattering away. 

The party is not very large - just 60 people.  So, it is a testimony to the prevalence of the trend that  she catches two independent dialogues, which support one of her it's-only-gonna-get-worth observations: that there is no such thing anymore as a "secure" profession.

A VP of Acquisition and Investment from a Commercial Real Estate Brokerage humorously tells a story how at a recent RE conference she met a middle-aged gentlemen with a double-sided business card.  One side introduced him as a licensed commercial property broker and another... as a cardiologist.  He told her that he'd been a practicing heart specialist for 25 years before getting into selling corner delis, Korean restaurants, and warehouses.  People didn't know how to react and, therefore, they snickered - a typical response.  Someone said, "I wouldn't trust that guy with my heart."

Well, I've been saying for some time now that HMO's together with malpractice insurers did a pretty thorough job of downgrading the medical profession from one of the highest-earning trades to a regular struggling-to-survive occupation.  This is why it's so hard to find a good primary physician nowadays: the insurance pays $8-$25 monthly allowance for PP patients and the only appointment you are allowed to bill to the provider is the annual full physical.  Every single privately practicing doctor that I know, including specialists, feels obligated to tell me how he is about to lose everything and how he cannot afford his kids' tuition anymore.  But I have to be honest: A cardiologist going into real estate?  That was surprising even to me.               

In another conversation The Frustrated CFO's corporate attorney was explaining how they had to push one of the partners out because "he wasn't bringing enough business."  His arrangement gave him rights to share in the combined profits, while the other partners didn't feel that he was pulling his weight.  So, they simply didn't renew his contract.  Now, the attorney said, the ousted ex-partner went to work for a law firm that kept all attorneys strictly on the eat-what-you-kill basis.  No more sharing in each other's efforts - if you don't bring any business on your own, you don't earn anything at all. 

Well, this has been a shift in many partnership-based professions: not just law firms, but also accounting, managerial consulting, architecture & design, web development, advertising, and some-such companies.  It's not that important anymore whether you are a good lawyer - it's all about the salesmanship, the "rolodex," the ability to snatch a new client.  I keep waiting for the time when these entities start hiring sales execs without the required professional backgrounds and pay them humongous bonuses for selling services fulfilled by someone else.  

As recently as 10 years ago parents still thought that as long as they force their children into being a doctor, a lawyer, an engineer, or a money manager (regardless of the kids' actual talents and dreams), they did their "duty" of making sure that these young men and women were financially comfortable and could provide for themselves and their future families.  But it's not true anymore: there are no more cushy jobs, no security in any profession, no guarantees. 

Boss Joke of the Month: Raises and Bonuses

Ah, January!  Traditionally, a month of raises and bonuses!  Or, at least it used to be.  You probably have read many an article and a blog post about the diminishing slew of companies still giving out performance bonuses and/or raises. 

I am not surprised - I am the one always going on and on about the illusional nature of the "economic recovery" tune so "earnestly" whistled by politicians and business media.  Companies, big and small, are struggling left and right.  In the absence of profits, merit is kicked off its, already pathetic, backseat all the way into the trunk: When a company experiences business losses you may need to work twice as hard as you did during more prosperous times, but it will not get you matching rewards.  In fact, big enterprises frequently present their employees with a more contemporary version of a performance reward: take a pay cut or a demotion for the sake of keeping your job.

But not the young company X! 

Company X had difficult 2011 and 2012, experiencing all sorts of growing pains and deformities, but 2013 was, if not a spectacular, but a pretty-pretty good year: the business outperformed its forecaststs both at the Gross and the Net Profit levels.  And so, in accordance with formal evaluations conducted at the end of the year, the Board of Directors decided that effort-based bonuses will be paid and raises will take effect as of January 2014.

Now, like many small and mid-size companies, X uses ADP as their payroll service provider.  So, in order to implement raises, an Administrator has to go into ADP's online system and change employees' pay rates.  X's CFO is very anal about being above suspicions: she has set up the payroll administrative functions in a way that allows her to change everybody's compensation items, except her own.  She left that prerogative to the owner/CEO.

Unfortunately that means getting the boss to do something outside of her comfort zone: Of course, she doesn't remember her login ID and password for the Payroll Administration portal.  Plus, any reminder of the compensation negotiations puts her in a vile mood.  Plus, a rate per pay periods, a special bonus batch...  It's all too much.  Never mind that she only needs to do that for ONE PERSON, her CFO! 

CFO is very aware, though.  She makes it as simple as possible, cutting the instructions for CEO into small pieces and chewing them into a pulp that can be fed through an IV.  She puts it in writing too, via email: 

"My base salary was $A per year.  You gave me a raise of Y%, which amounts to $B.  My new base salary, therefore, is $C per year ($A + $B).  Accordingly, please change my semi-monthly payroll rate from current $a ($A/24) to $c ($C/24).  Thank you."

In two hours our CFO receives CEO's response:

"Dear N,

Please double check your current pay and the number after raise.  Also, I will have to do it on Monday, because I need to leave now to pick up my son."

Really?!  CFO looks at the email and in her mind she imagines writing back something like: "Bitch, are you telling me that I don't know how much you underpay me?  Or that with an MS in Finance, MBA in Accounting, and a PhD in Economics I cannot do simple arithmetic?  And why the fuck I, of all people,  am supposed to wait for my fucking raise?  I just set you up with one, even though my daughter is waiting for me!  What the fuck?!"

But CFO is not writing anything: she knows only too well that CEO didn't mean malice - she is just that stupid, dense, and lazy.  It's insults CFO's intelligence to work for someone like that.  But what are you going do?  At least in this place they give out raises and bonuses. 

The Frustrated CFO Presents: The FedEx Man Cometh

A Treatment for a Feature Short Film:

The present.

Brightly lit business office suite.  The camera moves out of the reception area, along a large sign on the wall "ALISP International," and into the open-design space in the middle.  There are a lot of boxes of various types around - file storage, heavy-duty cardboard with foam padding, etc.   Some are sealed and others are half-packed.  Office workers of both genders and different ages are busily occupied: most of them are at their desks, either working on the computers or talking on the phones, while a few are transferring files and folders from desk drawers and cabinets into the boxes.  The company is obviously packing up. 

PAIGE, 30, an accounting manager with plain but soft facial features, gets up from her chair, takes a huge pile of checks she just printed and walks into a private office with an open door.  

Inside the office, the CFO, a middle-aged woman with an almost visible weight of responsibilities and problems on her shoulders, is at her desk.  She is a hardened veteran of the professional work-force; one of those bitches who are said to have bigger balls than their male peers.  A permanent scorn for humanity is set deeply around her mouth. 

It looks as if her right hand is glued to the mouse, moving and clicking the thing in a seemingly erratic pattern, which causes rows and columns of data on the computer screen appear, disappear, reproduce, and rearrange themselves.  There is a tower of empty boxes in one of the corners.  Clearly, she didn't have a chance to start packing.  The CFO doesn't stop her manipulations of cells even when Paige comes up to her desk.

The desk's surface is completely covered with documents and reports, yet appears to be in a sort of a neat order.  Failing to find an empty spot, the younger woman asks, "Is it okay if I put them on this contract?" The CFO is her mentor and Paige feels guilty for giving her something else to do, as if those checks were intended to pay her personal bills. 

The CFO stops torturing the mouse and looks up.  "Actually, it will be great if you do that, because right after I finish this bullshit for the bank and sign the damned checks I will have to read that damned contract to make sure that our esteemed attorneys didn't miss anything," she says without any irritation, just matter of factly.

"Those RingCentral, guys, did they finally got what you wanted them to do with the phone system in the new office?  I heard you spelling it out for them."

The CFO produces a funny sound - a combination of a sad sigh and a bristle of disgust:  "People rarely disappoint me - most of the time they are exactly what I expect them to be." 

In a gesture of a female camaraderie, Paige lightly rubs the CFO's shoulder and leaves the office.

The CFO goes back to her computer and continues manipulating the database at the same high speed.  Her phone rings.  She hits the speakerphone button without taking her eyes off the screen.

"Yes."

The reciptionist's voice singsongs out of the phone, "Gary from LinkNet for you."

"Okay." 

The CFO keeps working, while a man's voice comes on after a click, "Hi, M."

"Hi, Gary.  What's up?"

"We just checked the tracking information - the boxes are on a FedEx truck, out for delivery to your new address.  I'm a bit concerned about nobody's being there.  It's a bunch of pretty expensive stuff: uninterrupted power supply unit, firewall, network switch, backup..."

"Don't worry - I have a standing order with the building's management to keep all our packages in the mail room until we collect them.  And I will be there Monday morning."

"Okay, and the next day we will come to install and connect everything.  Just in case, we included your contact information on the label."

"That's cool.  Okay, bye."

"Bye."

Same day, early afternoon.

A FedEx truck is moving down Broadway in NYC's Financial District, rolling closer and closer towards the Bowling Green Bull; then turns left a few blocks before the statue.

The FedEx truck is parked at the entrance of a steel-and-glass 30-story office building.  The driver, a man in his early 30s in FedEx uniform, unloads several heavy packages onto his hand truck and rolls it through the building's service entrance.  

Inside the building's mail room a young man, late 20s, is behind the counter. He is wearing a standard navy blue jacket of the NYC Service Employees International Union.  He stares intently into a computer monitor, which emits barely audible, muffled moaning sounds.  He mutes it as soon as the driver walks through the door. 

"Wussup, man!  Cold outside?"

"How you doin? Too cold.  I got boxes here all going to same place...  Lemme see..."  Looking at the label of the box on the top, "Al...  Als... Ali... Al..."

While the driver is trying to figure out the name on the label, the guy behind the counter strikes a few keys on the computer keyboard.  Tenants' directory appears on the screen in front of him.  Within seconds he exclaims, "Aliyes!  Sixth floor, man!"  He sounds very satisfied with the fact that he managed to find the company before the driver could read the label.

As the FedEx driver rolls towards the freight elevator, the mail-room dude clicks the mouse and the very quiet moaning comes back on.  About five inches away from the guy's hand on the mouse, a sheet of paper is affixed to the surface with a tape strip.  The letterhead indicates:

"From the Desk of Joe Funk, Building Manager"  

The header below states in bold letters:

"NEW TENANTS" 

"ALISP - Floor 17: Keep packages in the mail room" is the first entry on the alphabetized list that follows.

Same day, late afternoon.

The CFO is at her desk.  With her glasses on, she is now reading "that damned contract," marking it with a pencil every once in a while.  The phone on the desk rings.  Again, she hits the speakerphone button without looking.

"Yes."

The receptionist's voice is hesitant - she is obviously unsure whether she is doing the right thing by passing this call to the CFO instead of fielding it away.

"There is a person on the phone...  He says that he is from a company...  Aliyes... and that he got your packages, ma'am."

The CFO takes off her reading glasses and looks at the phone as if it was a curious living thing.  You can hear amusement in her voice when she asks, "My personal packages?"

"Yes, it seems so.  He asked for you by name."

"Okay, put him through."

In a second, a man's voice comes through the speaker.

"M.?"

"Yes."

"My name is Bill.  My company is on the sixth floor here at XX Broad.  Are you, guys, in the same building?"

"We are and we aren't.  We are in the process of moving in - the 17th floor."

"For some reason your packages were delivered to us by FedEx, and my secretary signed for them.  She started opening them up without even looking at the labels.  All this equipment seems expensive."

"It is quite expensive.  Your company's name is Aliyes?  Well, the first three letters are the same - that's as far as an average attention span can go nowadays."

They both laugh.

The man says, "It's a good thing that your name and number were on the label."

"I have to thank my IT Administration service for that."

"Look, we already sealed the boxes back - as good as new.  Why don't you call John, the building manager, and ask him to open your office for us.  I will have my guys bring it inside and I will personally supervise that nothing gets screwed up again."

The CFO's face changes and her voice is very earnest, when she says, "That would be great!  Thank you so much.  I am so grateful."

Indeed, she is grateful - she got lucky that someone with the common sense cut this chain of events short.  The whole thing could've turned out so much worse.   

Tech-Savvy CFO vs. Technologically Inept Owners: A Boardroom Chronicle

Premise:  

Based on true facts, this present-day farce unfolded right after the company at the center of the story signed a new office lease.  The entity's CEO, an infamous procrastinator and a successful decision-dodger, has delayed the execution of the document to the point when only 60 days remained before the moving-in day.

Up until now, the fairly young business always occupied a full-service furnished office suite, where everything from pen holders to receptionists is supplied by the landlord, including all telecommunications and IT administration.  However, by this point the successful business outgrew the little rooms and the shared common space of the suites - it was time for the company to obtain its own residence.

As all logical people know, lease signing is only the beginning of a relocation process.  A lot of work needs to be done before a company can feel at home and be fully operational in its new place of business.  And nowadays, the IT infrastructure becomes a prerequisite to everything else.

This flat-structured small business has a misfortune of having a board of directors that consists of three technologically clueless owners (the type who cannot connect a printer to a PC) and a CFO.  The latter has been combining her financial and accounting responsibilities with those of a CTO throughout her entire career.  Needless to say, she understands what needs to be done, knows how to go about it (nobody else does in this company), and is more than qualified to make all necessary decisions.  Yet, the Board has a rule: anything that involves spending money must be approved by all four members.

So, here is the chronology of making a single decision under the described circumstances:

Motion 1 - 60 days till D-Day.  Upon receiving the fully executed lease from the lawyers, the CFO writes an eMemo to the owners requesting a Board meeting in order to develop an action plan that would ensure successful and painless relocation.  The plan should assign responsible parties and establish deadlines for each task.

The owners don't acknowledge that the issue was raised and two weeks pass in a complete silence regarding this matter.

(Side Note: All four executives are actually heavily involved in their day-to-day responsibilities.  They communicate extensively every day discussing various commercial concerns, while avoiding difficult extraordinary topics.)

Motion 2 - 46 days till D-Day.  Recognizing that the owners have fallen into their typical pattern of pretending that the problem doesn't exist (this happens every time an issue lies outside of their comfort zone), the CFO makes another attempt to mobilize the Board to set up an action plan.  This time she speaks to each of them in person.  They all nod in agreement - "Tomorrow," they say.  The CFO squeezes a two-hour time slot into her crazy schedule.

Three days pass without anything happening. 

Motion 3 - 43 days till D-Day.  The CFO feels the time pressure - at the very least she must start working on IT components, regardless of the owners' ostrich behavior.  The business will be simply paralyzed without an adequate infrastructure.  She really has no room in her schedule for all research, comparison, and optimization of  various ISPs, telecoms, and IT administrators...  But who else is going to do it?  So, instead of pestering the owners again about the "action plan," she writes a very specific inquiry:  "Please confirm your agreement with my taking charge of the groundwork for obtaining the Internet service, telephony, and IT administration support."  Without waiting for replies, the CFO starts working on the subject of the highest priority, i.e. the Internet connection, by reviewing nine ISPs whose services are available in the new building.    

Motion 4 - 41 days till D-Day.  At different hours, the CFO receives messages from the owners - all three are worded very similarly: "Thank you for asking and forward thinking.  Please go ahead with the projects." She can almost hear their sighs of relief - somebody else has made the decisions for them!!!  The CFO closes her eyes for a second and thinks, "The same shit every time.  I wish at least once I would let things run their course - just to see what would happen if I didn't worry about all of this, if I didn't jump in."

By carving little chunks of time in her schedule to deal with this shit, the CFO manages to come to her final ISP conclusion in 5 business days: to accommodate all of the  company's needs (including VoIP) she needs a reliable fiber-optics broadband.  She narrows down her choices to two ISPs - the award-winning Cogent with dedicated connectivity and Verizon's newest product FiOS Quantum ran through communal cables shared with all other users in the vicinity. 

Motion 5 - 36 days till D-Day.  She immediately gets quotes from both: Cogent values itself highly - $700/month with a three-year contract, plus $1,000 installation fees; Verizon's rate is only $129/month with a two-year contract.  Even with such a disparity in pricing, it's a simple choice as far as the CFO is concerned - she knows that Cogent will provide uber-fast, uninterrupted connection, and if something happens, she can be on the phone with an engineer within 30 seconds.  Verizon, on the other hand...  well, we all dealt with Verizon at one point or another.  Yet, for the owners all this technical staff is as difficult as Icelandic; the huge price difference, however, that's easy.   So, the CFO goes back to Cogent's salesperson and dangles FiOS Quantum at $129/month in front of his nose (virtually, of course).  He is taken aback - he had no clue that Verizon had started offering this brand new service in that building.  He cannot stop himself from uttering, "That's a compelling alternative."  The CFO doesn't dissuade him from this train of thought; she waits.  And he says that he would go to his director and try to get her a better deal.

Motion 6 - Same Day. Cogent wants the business - the salesperson reverts in two hours, dropping the price to $500/month with a three-year contract or $400/month with a four-year contract.  Both rates are exclusive of taxes and charges.  With this reduction in hand, the CFO immediately prepares a presentation for the Board, breaking down her selection process step-by-step and making a strong case for Cogent through detailed comparison and scoring of all providers.  She sends it out to the three owners and requests a board meeting to make the final decision.

Four days of silence passes.  The CFO understands: it's too fucking much for them, they don't want to deal with this, they are hiding.

Motion 7 - 32 days till D-Day. The CFO has no choice but to write to the owners again: "Let me remind you that installing the Internet connection must precede all other IT and telecommunication actions, including setting up the phone system, the computer network, etc. - basically everything that we need for the business's operations.  And it will not happen overnight!"  This gets CEO's attention.  She comes over to the CFO's office and says, "Let's decide by tomorrow the latest."

Two days passes.

Motion 8 - 30 days till D-Day.  One of the owners (already in possession of the previously distributed detailed presentation) sends an inquiry, "Can you make a comparison for me between Cogent and Verizon?" as if he just woke up to the issue. 

Motion 9 - Same Day.  The CFO prepares a simplified comparison chart intended for a 4-year-old audience.  Meanwhile, she tells Cogent that the decision is not settled yet and that she will appreciate if the provider gives up something else - like do away with the $1,000 installation fees and make rates flat, all-inclusive (taxes, charges, etc.)  The salesperson conferences in his Director and they yield.  The CFO simply cannot lose this deal: she goes around and collects the owners' consents in person. 

Motion 10 - 29 days till D-Day.  The CFO signs the contract with Cogent.

Curtains 

And this is just Act I.  Ahead, there are still decisions on a VoIP system, an IT Administration service, furniture, equipment... 

CFO Folklore: The Illusion of Irreplaceability

This is what always happens with severely responsible and talented people who take pride in the quality of their work and apply themselves hard, regardless of the rewards and recognition, material or otherwise: They do an extraordinary job in every function they are assigned, they show initiative and undertake tasks beyond their scope of responsibility, they set their own lofty goals and high performance standards, they pull off feats of creativity and miracles of ingenuity.  Truly they accomplish things that no one else would in their place. 

More frequently than not they don't run around screaming about their achievements - after all, they simply cannot operate any other way and they don't care that nobody asked them to be like that.  They themselves know that they are the best.  Plus, people around them acknowledge such efforts in one way or another - subordinates show respect, peers get testy, etc.  And the bosses?  They either don't notice anything, because their heads are usually up their asses, or they are too limited to appreciate the ace-level pilotage they are witnessing. 

As someone afflicted by this condition, I can assert that there is nothing healthy about it.  Privately wallowing in the knowledge that you are "simply the best" and that your work ethic is a cut above everyone else's, while not being adequately rewarded for your efforts, is nothing more than an addiction to one's own ego. It's vanity of the worst kind, because it violates the principles of objectivism and merit-based recognition.  And, like any addiction, it is accompanied by a couple of supplemental attributes. 

One of them is the inevitable development of passive-aggressive behavior: no matter how many times a person is going to say that she does it for the sake of her own self-satisfaction, something deep inside wants to be celebrated for the extraordinary abilities, efforts, and results.  This secret desire is in a constant fight with an extreme dislike of boasting.  Thus, the feelings and impulses get mostly suppressed and come out in the form of classic indirect hostility and resentment.

Another attribute is the illusion of irreplaceability.  The tormented crazies convince themselves that without them the company will not be able to survive; that everything will fall apart and go to hell.  They believe that there is no way somebody else could be found to fill their shoes.  And why not?  Nowadays, people like that are quite rare.  It's most likely that, if an employee in question leaves on her own accord or is let go for some reason (because she becomes unaffordable or her attitude becomes unbearable), the employer will never ever have someone that good in the same position.  But does it really mean that losing these truly invaluable workers is an incurable disaster?  Are they really irreplaceable? Let me answer this question by doing what I frequently do - relating the readers to an example from popular culture. 

In case you have not had a chance to check out the Netflix/Lionsgate's co-production Orange Is the New Black, I urge you to do so - trust me, you will not regret it.  The show's creator, Jenji Kohan (widely known for her Showtime offspring, Weeds), is a member of a still rare breed of entertainment developers, who is able to focus on female characters without reducing the finished product to gender-specific genres.  Orange is the New Black takes place in a women's federal prison, and its ratio of male to female characters is about 1:10.  Yet, 47% of IMDb users who rated Orange is the New Black (8.5 stars overall) were males.

One of the primary characters in the first season of the show is an inmate of Russian origin, Galina "Red" Reznikov (Kate Mulgrew).  This formidable woman runs... no, she rules the prison's kitchen and has an influence on pretty much the entire social canvas of the place.  By the show's start she has apparently been there for years and assumed a role of a Godmother for a tight circle of her "daughters."  She can be a real bitch, and a newbie should think twice before contradicting her.  But the truth is she is doing a remarkable job, keeping her fellow convicts and the staff fed and even rewarded with treats under the conditions of ever-shrinking budget, broken fridge, and oppressive hostility from some nasty guards.  As early as the 5th episode, it is impossible for the audience to imagine the kitchen without Red.  Obviously, she herself thinks she is irreplaceable.

Guess what?  Towards the end of the season, the combination of some people's foolishness and others' unsavory scheming gets her kicked off the throne and out of the kitchen.  So, what happens?  Do the lights go out in the mess hall forever?  Do the prisoners get shipped to another facility to be fed?  Nah ah!  Another head cook is found right there in the general population and installed in front of the range; she brings in her own crew; the cooking continues somehow.  True, there are no more yogurt favors, the menu is severely skewed towards Latin-American cuisine, and even the oatmeal comes out spicy.  But the plates are not empty, people are not starving.  Life goes on, while Red is driving herself insane with displacement anger.        

So, the answer to the above question is: No, you are not irreplaceable.  It may take a whole team of less adequate and more expensive people to pick up your tasks.  And collectively they will accomplish less and it will not be brilliant, but it will be just good enough for the business to continue, at least in the short run.  Let me assure you that nothing will fall apart, because doing things half-assed and with little care has become a widespread norm.  Everyone accepts poor quality at a higher cost nowadays, and so will your bosses.  And you, with your talents, skills and unsolicited attempts to jump over the high-standard bars, are just an ego freak.      

Small Business Crusader Presents: Slate Coffee Roasters

 

Photo by © Yana Alexandra Crow

As I mentioned in my travel reflections, it is not enough to treat my visit to Seattle's Slate Coffee Roasters as just another thing I did during my trip to the West Coast in August.  The place definitely deserves its own dedicated post. 

I personally know espresso aficionados who are obsessed with Slate, and I can totally understand why:  Even if you are a jaded connoisseur, you will have a novel, unforgettable experience here.  From the very beginning, Slate's founders conceptualized their business out of three exceptional building blocks: niche high-quality raw materials, superior preparation techniques, and singular finished products.      

Conceived and founded by Chelsea Walker in a partnership with her brother and mother, Slate was born two years ago, in November 2011.  It started its life in an Airstream trailer strategically positioned in Seattle's Capitol Hill.  Now, transplanted to one of Seattle's northwestern neighborhoods, Ballard, the establishment continues to cultivate the same aesthetics of grace and elegance that inspired the founders to start the business in the first place.  It applies to everything: the offerings, the methods, the decor, the ambiance, the hospitality, even the service sets.          

What fascinates me the most is that this young woman did exactly what I advocate all young people to do.  She found something that she (a) feels the most passionately about; (b) has talent for; and (c) knows well how to do, both technically and commercially.  She utilized her reputation as an innovative espresso barista to solicit valuable advice from local coffee-business celebrities and went full force after her entrepreneurial dream, attacking the odds on all fronts: Her business model includes the wholesale of Slate's roasts to other coffee boutiques (so far 9 locations in Washington, California, Massachusetts, and Illinois), the online store selling the current selection of beans as well as a few signature coffee implements, a coffee subscription, and, of course, the bar itself, where you can experience the magic firsthand and then leave with a bag of the fresh roast you've just tasted.

Everything in Slate Coffee Roasters is unique.  The uncluttered decor complements the minimalist menu very well: There are no lattes, cappuccinos, macchiatos, frappes, and such other potions here.  The only espresso-based drinks you can get are, well, espresso - either neat or cut with milk, in various proportions.  The rest are hot or cold-brewed coffees - usually from no more than 3 or 4 sources.  The coffee bean is treated here as a tropical fruit that it actually is.  So, just like good wine makers, Slate folks pursue rich bouquets and go after small-batch sources that harvest the most flavorful products: a 1500-farmers estate in Kenya, a specific lot on a Panama estate populated exclusively by Gesha trees, an Ethiopian co-op, etc. 

The single-source beans are roasted in house twice a month in 15-kilo lots.  Slate abandoned the tradition of the deeply roasted espressos and goes light on the heat for the sake of preserving the flavors.  In order to provide the bar's customers with an unadulterated experience, no sugar or any other sweeteners are offered.  They use non-homogenized local-farm milk here - so sweet and real, you feel happy for the cows that gave it away, and the desire to taste it on its own motivates some people (me!) to order the full Espresso Deconstructed set twice in a row.  If you do like something solid to complement your espresso or coffee, you should try the hand-dipped in chocolate... no, not conventionally dried orange peels, but syrup-soaked fresh orange slices.  It only makes sense that these exquisite offerings are served in a bar (rather than the common coffee house) setting, with espresso presented in designer stemware.  Other straight coffees are brewed to perfection in a variety of methods expertly matched to specific beans.

Of course, when judged by the field's elite, this, for a lack of better words, artistic and somewhat rebellious approach to the provisioning of coffee-based beverages, elicits high recognition and praise: Many a West Coast barista know of Slate; the wonderful Brandon Paul Weaver, who's been at Slate from the start, won the 2013 North West Regional Brewers Cup; and Slate's team captured the title of America's Best Coffee House 2013 in Seattle, which, considering the city's history with the drink, is a feat, especially for such a young establishment.    

It goes without saying that all these elements set Slate apart from the rest of Seattle's coffee scene and theoretically should've given them a tremendous competitive advantage.  Yet, the company struggles commercially. And it is my strong opinion that it has a lot to do with its geographical location - not just the remote Ballard specifically, but Seattle altogether.  Of course, the bar has its own devotees, who come in all the time (some are even willing to fly cross-country just to feel the magical brews on their lips), but, generally speaking, there are simply not enough people to generate a steady stream of clientele to the counter.  There is no question in my mind that the good people of Slate would be so much better off  in a place famous for its unyielding hyperactivity.

Yes, New York City is the most competitive place on this planet.  And yes, it is especially true for the majority of food establishments - according to Business Insider, 80% of restaurants here close in their first year of operation.  It makes total sense to me: you've got to do something extraordinary to survive here as yet another deli, a French or Italian restaurant, a Japanese sushi bar, or a Chinese take-out.  That said, the field of designer espresso is pretty barren.  Well, we maybe have about 20 highly rated specialized places - a ridiculously small number for NYC!  Yet, people with really discriminating tastes still complain that it is impossible to get a good espresso in New York.

The top places in competitions and recognition by connoisseurs are great, but at the end of the day, for a consumer-dependent establishment it's all about the statistics of public exposure: the more people pass a place, the higher the number of those who will enter.  And only then can you start wowing them with your miracles, hopefully achieving a sufficient level of the customer retention:  In order to succeed a small coffee-bar business needs a steady 10-people line during the morning, lunch, and coffee-break rushes.  Alternatively, this particular business can position itself as an exclusive Art House of Espresso with people coming in specifically for the Slate's religious experience and willing to pay exorbitant prices for it.   Neither possibility, unfortunately, is going to present itself  in Ballard.   

To illustrate how the statistical probabilities are impacted by geographical locations, let me use an analogy from my recent music experience:  Royal Canoe, a great small band from Winnipeg, Manitoba (don't jump to Wikipedia - they are not there) primarily performs at alternative festivals and small peripheral venues with, let's say, 50-300 people capacity.  What is the probability that someone who sees them at The Garrison in Toronto (capacity 270) will go out of their way to attend their concert in Brooklyn?  I'd say, close to zero.  But on 09/14 they opened for Alt-J at NYC's Hammerstein Ballroom (GA Floor capacity 3400, plus galleries) and I know of at least 5 people (two independent groups), who went to Canada specifically to see them play again.  And there might have been more.  And even if only 10% of the live audience buys t-shirts and CDs, it translates to 27 music lovers in Toronto, but at least 400 in NYC. 

Numbers - they don't lie.  So, is it surprising that at this moment Slate has only 28 reviews on Yelp, while Lucid Cafe (even though a very nice place, but no award winner or espresso breath-taker) located 4 blocks from Grand Central has 93? 

What I hope for is that Slate's current operations will create enough momentum to ignite in owners the desire to solidify their success and branch out to the busiest spot in the world, the city that never sleeps and, therefore, is in a dire need of Chelsea Walker's heavenly concoctions.  Plus, we have the highest concentration of people who adore the high-end, luxurious, elite products and services.  So, see you in New York?!            

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