5/6/2011 - pretentious vernacular. . .

Sometimes, the corporate world baffles me with its lack of reality.  We dress in clothes we would likely never wear on our own accord, work on things that likely do not fulfill us or enrich our lives, and, as I've noticed lately, say things that likely would sound absolutely absurd to anyone not embroiled in the corporate construct and in love with this style of pretentious vernacular.  Some examples:

1. We have many masters to please,
2. but if we want to remain competitive, we have to get on the beach,
3. so given our budgetary constraints, it would benefit us most if we just focused on the low-hanging fruit.

In other words:

1. People have too many opinions;
2. we need to just get to work,
3. but since we're broke right now, let's just do easy shit.

Some co-workers are notorious offenders, and I've taken to jotting down and tallying how many occurrences I hear of these stuffed-shirtisms throughout my day.  For example, using the word 'hat' to signify 'perspective,' as in, "We have to take off our [Company X] hat and put on the customer hat if we want to succeed," happened six times this week in four different meetings, but only perpetrated by two different people.  I've heard the "many masters to please" gem five times since the inception of this anecdotal research a few weeks ago, all from the same person!

This morning, I had to laugh after an exchange of e-mails with a particularly demanding salesperson.  She wanted some information on the project I launched earlier this week IMMEDIATELY (her caps, not mine) to give to a client.  I was already working on other things at that moment, so my bandwidth was limited (when in Rome. . .), but still, I IMMEDIATELY (my caps, not hers) began digging through my files, found what she wanted, and summed it all up in an e-mail no more than 15 minutes later.

She wrote back almost IMMEDIATELY and proceeded to extol the importance of said client, how 'high-profile,' how this information could make or break the sale, etc.  And finally, could I send this information over in "addendum" format ASAP? 

I wrote back to ask her what she meant by that and this was her reply, verbatim: "I don't know... I made it up.  Just send me something ASAP.  Thanks!"

At least she admitted that this term does not exist (how she expected me to respond to her request, then, is a different story altogether).  So I copied everything from my e-mail, pasted it across three Powerpoint slides, and sent it again.  This seemed to satisfy her ill-defined notion of "addendum" format because I never heard back from her, not even an acknowledgement of receipt.

I recognize the levels of obnoxiousness this reaches, but really, what could I do but shrug it off and accept that this is the world in which I work and the people with whom I do?

Ah, Friday, never hesitate. . .