Ellie’s story of dealing with difficult people and bureaucracy at the workplace.
Last Friday, at work, I dealt with what I call an arbitrary bureaucrat. Actually, I’ve been having to deal with this difficult diva for a few months on a project. But, stuff hit the fan, as they say, last Friday.
Let me premise this rant by saying the senior leadership team of my company is trying hard and doing a good job of busting bureaucracy at the corporate level. Unfortunately, we have some project leads who haven’t “gotten that memo” yet. Probably due to some bureaucracy in the mail room, donchaknow.
Try as I might not to hold grudges against people in general, I admit that I do sometimes. I am a forgiving person and can get past an inordinate amount of stupid BS. Because, life is too short to hold on to stupid stuff.
This difficult diva is a lower-level manager… Oh wait, she is not even a manager, she is what we call in corporate lingo: an individual contributor, an “IC.” So, for the purposes of this rant, my nemesis will be referred to as “IC” or “It.”
Ok, so this IC doesn’t show up for my meetings, ignores my emails, and of late when “It” does respond to an email has a very condescending tone. I’ve been trying hard to let this go, as I know how overworked “It” is. Just like the rest of us, mind you. Most of us are doing two or three roles, even more depending on what is going on at any given moment. Most of us still have the common courtesy to inform we won’t be able to attend a meeting. And we take the time to respond to emails even if to merely acknowledge receipt and inform we’ll respond as soon as humanly possible.
A bit of background: I was assigned to support a team who is organizing a huge customer event. This event is an annual activity, one of which I’ve helped support for years in one capacity or another. At this customer event, there are “events within the event,” if you will. In other words, some ancillary meetings that take place during the overall show. I have coordinated and managed this ancillary type shindig many times over the years, as well. In fact, the customers that typically attend this meeting know me. Not all of them, but most of them. The point is, that I engage with these customers directly all.the.time. Not just for this annual show, but during the year, as well.
This year, the overall show leads and organizers have assigned “It,” the IC extraordinaire, to handle logistics for portions of the event. Just portions mind you, not the whole thing, but don’t ask “It” who leads, because “It” will tell you that: “She, the Leader of all Logistics in all the Land” is in charge of everything. It should be noted that I, too, was brought in to handle logistics for two of the ancillary sessions before the project even started. Then, because the bureaucracy beast still lives in some organizations (damn, that mail is never going to make it downhill) the IC was officially assigned as Queen Facilitator and Logistics Lead of all the land. Ok, fine, let’s move on. “It” can have its little plot of land to manage. I’ll help where I can…which now is working with the folks leading Content development.
So, now I am knee deep in content related activities and I’m assigned to develop four meeting assets, otherwise known as documents. *eye roll* Big whoop. Important, all the same. As work progresses, and we are all heavily involved with the preparations, I’m engaging with the customers directly (doG forbid) as I am requesting biographies and hi-res photos and such for one of the assets. This is not against any rules that I’m aware of. Yet.
Further, another task for which I’m responsible is tracking invited customer registration for the overall event. This helps to ensure customers are attending our important ancillary meeting. I learn during this process that one of the customers is declining the entire event and will be sending a replacement. No problem, happens all the time. But, this replacement needs to be sent a formal invitation with a registration link so he can sign up for activities, secure accommodations, etc. So, I send an email to parties that I believe to be the right ones, to ask them to have an invitation sent. I copy IC on the mail as a good little corporate citizen should, to keep “It” in the loop.
Halleluiah and glory be to doG, “It” responds to an email of mine. However, I read her majesty’s mail and I see that I am getting my hand royally slapped because I’ve sent it to the wrong team. *Off with her head.*
“Its” response starts off with “Ellie, in the future, please do not send this directly to Helen.”
This directive is short, not so sweet, and without the pertinent information I need to get the request to the correct parties. I let this go, but I monitor behind the scenes to ensure a formal invitation is sent.
Fast forward a few days: Friday. The big day. They day of reckoning. The day the stuff hits the proverbial fan.
I get up at 0:dark thirty as usual, get my coffee and sit on the couch to wake up. I have a habit of checking my email even at that undoGly hour, because my boss and other people I work with are in Europe. I’m just checking for urgencies. I won’t respond unless I need to…until later in the morning when set up to work.
I see an email that landed at 4:30am by IC. Glory be to doG, she has responded to another, separate email that I had sent. This one, again, I’m helping a customer try to get some information about one of the day’s activities. I had asked to get a high-level view of the activities so I could send it to the customer. He wanted to see if he should change his own personal plans to stay for the entire event. By now, because I’ve had my hand slapped, I know who I am supposed to address any requests related to my customer’s inquiries. I also copy IC on the email for transparency. Hence, the mail I see at 5:00am sitting on my couch in my bunny slippers and PJs, drinking my first cup o’joe.
IC basically informed me that the customer’s inquiry should come from him directly and sent to the proper team.
What in the world?! You are adding in a layer of BS and giving the customer homework?! You could easily just give me a couple of sentences explaining the day’s activities. This directive to have the customer write her team directly is too much for me to bear, especially at 5:00am. My bad, I replied with my armor on and my archery poised and aimed directly at my nemesis. I am a perfect shot, too, so don’t mess with me, you lowly little wannabe manager.
Let the games begin.
We have an email war of words for about 90 minutes. Oh, by the way, IC felt it necessary to put the VP in “real” charge of this ancillary session on copy. Idiot move, dear. This VP is on my team and reports to my SVP. We report to the same SVP and are virtual peers, in a sense. Okay, not really. I am by no means an executive, but I do have clout, and she and I work very closely together and share a mutual respect.
No problem, I can fight with an audience, like a gladiator in a roman colosseum. The final email that is delivered by me via my trusty bow and arrow implies that IC is making this simple request ridiculously difficult by “Its” arbitrary rules. I tell her that if this is the way she wants to play it, I’ll inform the customer and his account manager that they must request this information directly. That I have been denied the power to request one sentence to relay to the customer to help him decide if he should change his plans to stay for the entire event. In “Its” final email to me (because Queen’s must have the last word), she wrote a 500-word essay on why it is necessary for inquiries to go to her team. I didn’t read the entire email. She did however, leak the 50K foot high view of the day’s activities. Thanks, appreciate the information. Idiot.
Ludicrous. I needed to cool off. I got off the couch and on to the treadmill to work out some of the pungent odor of this arbitrary bureaucracy. Du
ring which time, I decided to inform the customer’s account manager what the ridiculous rules are and not embarrass my company by informing the customer directly. But, I also include two sentences that he could give to his customer to aid in making the decision. To hec with her; I do what I want.
If you are still with me and enjoying this prose of busting bureaucracy, there is yet another level of ludicrous. I’ll try to make this short, because I’m sure you are getting hungry, maybe even hangry, right about now. Hopefully, you have been enjoying a nice adult beverage as you read. Or, a Mimosa if it is your morning.
The next interaction of ludicrous was, not with her highness, but with one of her minions. I sent an email to a person who is leading event room management, event set up and breakdown, deliveries, etc. AKA Room Management Minion. I should note that I was asked to send this inquiry to this specific minion by the IC that I’m supporting during this entire project. Jeez Louise she is scattered. Another IC. Another story. Another time.
So, I do as instructed, because…remember I am a good little corporate citizen. I try to get some required delivery date information so we can work a timeline for our asset deliverables. My doG, this person replies to my simple request with an inordinate amount of information, none of which answers my questions (here we go ‘round the corporate mulberry bush). And, this minion copies her majesty IC on her reply because IC needs to be in the loop on my simple request. Can we say bureaucratic BS? Yes. Oh, yes, we can.
Her majesty, the self-appointed ruler of all Logistics Land had to reply to this mail, well because because because because becAUse… because of the rules she pulls out of her *bleep*. In this one “It” asks that “she kindly be kept informed of these requests because she is currently the work stream lead for the ancillary program. And, that in our weekly meeting on Monday (Oh, she plans on attending…fabulous) she would like to review the roles and responsibilities around logistics.”
Oh, joy…I cannot tell you how much I look forward to this session. By the way, she copied the VP on this email as well. Again, idiot move.
Remember, this VP and I have a close working relationship and have for years. She writes me separately and tells me that she will give me a call as soon as she can later in the morning. By the time she calls me, I am fuming because both Royal IC and Scattered IC were writing emails back and forth. I was on copy but ignoring this thread. They were going on and on about how we will regroup during our Monday morning meeting.
My VP calls me. I answer the phone, and say “you really don’t want to talk to me right now.”
She said softly, “Why? Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me?”
I reply, “Absolutely not, but I am so angry right now.”
She explains to me that she is having the exact same kind of situation with “It’s” boss, which I found very interesting. The bureaucratic apple doesn’t fall far from the bureaucratic tree, does it? We talk for a little bit and she tells me that she already has a call set with “It’s” boss later in the day to work through similar issues. Interesting. I am not alone in this bureaucratic BS of a mess. Good.
Still with me?
The day goes on and around 3pm my desk phone rings. I see that the caller is Her majesty, IC. Pfft. Yeah right, I want to talk to you like I want another hole in my head. I ignore the ring. She dials back twice more on the desk phone, then twice on my mobile phone. Wow, “It” really wants to talk to me. Too bad. Once again on my desk phone, but this time leaves a voicemail. “It” starts rambling about how this morning’s war of words was a simple misunderstanding and “It” couldn’t understand where it all went terribly wrong.
Really?
“It” asks me to please return the call because “It” would like to connect with me before our Monday morning meeting. Too bad, I have no desire to talk to “It”, nor do I need to.
My VP calls me back telling me that I might be getting a call from “It.” I didn’t feel the need to tell her “It” already had called about half a dozen times and that I ignored “It.” She went on to say that she had her talk with “It’s” boss AND she had a call with “It” as well. She, too, tried to pass this on as a terrible misunderstanding and that none of us should be checking or responding to emails at 5:00 in the morning. With this, I agree. So, we talk a bit more about the project itself and that some things never change. So true. We end the call on a good note, but before we hang up, I tell her how unfortunate it is that she had to spend her time dealing with this type of bureaucratic BS.
By this time, it is already about 4:30 on a Friday afternoon, and I’m spent. Done. Call it a day. Call it a weekend. I finish up with some administrative tasks and “clock out.”
Let the fun begin again on Monday morning.