I've Never Actually Watched An Organization Implode Before

Today was supposedly the first day of my vacation.

Earlier in the week, though, Amy and Beverly scheduled a meeting with Samuel The Database Killer, to talk about the long and elaborate list of Shit That Don't Work No More No More No More. And the bright idea was advanced to bring in some of the actual USERS of the database--since neither Amy nor Beverly actually use this monstrosity from day to day--as a means of gathering insight as to how, exactly, these problems are affecting everyone's workflow.

They scheduled this meeting for 9 AM today, and I said I'd come in just for the meeting, then go home.

So I sent out e-mails to RuthAnne and Noreen, asking them to pick some representatives from their collective staff to bring to the meeting. Noreen wasn't there--SHE gets to go on vacation, apparently--so she sent her right hand, Lynn. RuthAnne decided to bring one of the coordinators, Sara...and the Brit.

We talked about this yesterday on the way home. I told him "Don't sit next to me, or I'll spend the whole meeting writing snotty notes and trying not to bust out laughing." There are a few people--Sara included--who would pose a similar threat; the three of us sometimes ride the train in the mornings together and snark on the hierarchy. I can only think of a couple more-dangerous combinations of people for this meeting. Sara is pissed because she can't do her job; the Brit has a temper in the face of unearned authority; and I'm just a sarcastic bitch who's tired of all the bullshit. It's a volatile cocktail, is what I'm saying.

So at 9:00 I walked into the meeting, with copies of the Long and Elaborate List in hand. I should have known immediately that things were already not going well when I heard Sara ask: "'Sticking to just this one issue'? What does that mean, exactly?" Fortunately Samuel had to move his car, and the Brit said to me "Did you hear that?? What the HELL is he talking about?"

Which was my question exactly. Beverly herself had told me the day before to bring copies of the lists so we could discuss them; somehow, it seemed, Samuel had hijacked the thread of the meeting before it even began.

When Samuel came back, we all sat down, I passed out the lists, and the fun began.

"Oh no," said Samuel. "We're not going over this whole list today?"

Beverly looked at me. "I thought your e-mail said we were going to discuss the other issue?" (This is the SAME WOMAN who told me less than 18 hours before that I should bring copies of the lists!)

"Um....okay..." There was really nothing more I COULD say; though my first choice would have been what the fuck are you talking about?, I had to reject it as an ill-considered option.

The meeting lasted about an hour. Samuel claimed that a lot of the problems should be solved now, since he'd done some major maintenance on the database last night. None of us really believed it, but we certainly wanted it to be true.

Meanwhile, back in reality: Sara was icily polite, but asked exactly the right questions; the Brit kept his temper in check, but made it clear that the database, as it stands, is a piece of unholy crap. (My translation, not his actual words. He was substantially more circumspect in speaking that truth.) They were both exactly correct in the issues they raised, and they did not criticize any of the myriad number of process and managerial errors they COULD have gone after. They really only wanted to know: When can we expect this set of issues to be resolved? When is it gonna WORK?

It was very clear that Beverly didn't like what she was hearing very much. She was rocking back and forth in her chair, rolling her eyes every time an issue was brought up. Towards the very end of the meeting, Sara was asking Samuel a question and Beverly slammed a pile of papers down on the table, completely impatient and obviously annoyed.

At the end of the meeting, Beverly and Amy said they needed to talk to Samuel, and asked me to stay as well. So Sara and RuthAnne and the Brit walked out, and as they closed the door behind them, Beverly opened her mouth and this is what came out:

"Well, Samuel, first of all I feel like I ought to apologize for my staff..."

I felt my jaw trying to drop and scooped it up with my hand.

"I mean, I have standards of behavior and they did NOT live up to those standards..."

She went on like that for a good long while, and I was just flabbergasted. She was hanging her OWN employees--proven, hard-working, diligent employees, might I add, and I'm not just saying that because they're my friends--completely out to dry, and APOLOGIZING to this shitstain who has single-handedly brought our organization to its knees. I could not believe my ears, except I sorta could because after all, this is BEVERLY we're talking about.

Once she was done, I knew: Sara and the Brit? Were in biiiiiig trouble. And I was pretty sure just how it was gonna go down, too. Beverly would bitch out RuthAnne for having such subversives on her staff; then RuthAnne would send it down on those two, because she's in the same boat I'm in and constantly has to redeem herself in Beverly's eyes, even when she's done nothing wrong.

Just before the meeting, Amy told me she wanted to meet with me about the status of all my little tasks. (Which...why, if I've been there all week, which I have; and if Amy has been there two days this week, which she ALSO has, would she wait til the day my vacation is supposed to start before asking me about my task list? I mean, there's such a thing as common sense here, and such a thing as being set up to fail. I am not normally such a cynic, but there you are.) So of course she had a dozen or two loose ends for me to tie up, and I went back to my desk to get them done so I could leave.

A few minutes later, the Brit came into my office. I put him up on what happened after they left the meeting, and told him as soon as I was done, I'd be over to their building to talk some more. (He was actually scared. Scared he was going to get fired, which...no, and that's what I told him; then scared he had let RuthAnne down, which...god, SO FUCKING CUTE! All the puppy-dogs in the world could not compete with just that one moment of concern and total cuteness. It was even more adorable than usual, and that's pretty much defining a whole new realm of adorable, right there.)

Once everything was done (by now it was 1:00, for anyone who was keeping score) I told everyone I was leaving, and ducked over to the other building. I talked to Sara first, since she had no idea at all; then I went and told the Brit the rest of the story--the apology and all.

"Are you fucking KIDDING me?" he asked.

"I am absolutely serious," I replied.

He got very, very quiet. And even though I don't know him ALL that well, I know this kind of quiet. It's the kind of quiet that comes right before stuff starts getting thrown, the kind of quiet that generally precedes by moments a screaming cursing tirade. I know this kind of quiet, being a veteran of it myself. (Except on him, it's really hot. God, I've got it bad.)

Fortunately his phone rang then, which gave him a little chance to calm down; meanwhile I went back into Sara's office. Sara and Mary and Christina and Kendra were all working there, at various workstations, all trying to do things with the database. And as I watched, one by one, each of them got booted out of the database for no reason at all, back to the Blue Screen Of Death. And one by one, they each looked silently at me for advice, which I couldn't give. Mainly because I didn't have any.

Sara's was the last to go. She looked for a moment at the Blue Screen, then up at me. And the two of us just started laughing, til our eyes were watering.

"I've never actually WATCHED an organization implode before," I said. "It's my first time."

As I was leaving--ready to go home to my first day of vacation, now that it was shortly after 2:00--I heard someone getting ready to transfer a call for RuthAnne, from Beverly. I walked up behind the Brit's desk, tapped him on the shoulder, and said, "Hang in there."

Four days off. During which I have one major family encounter, a couple of days with Tim sleeping on my sofa, and a phone interview (and possibly a real one after that) for Best...job...EVER.

My vacation needs a vacation.