Best Company Ever, Chapter 3

Our current food service vendor, Aramark, is getting the axe today. Due to a decline in service, reduction in lunchtime selection, and an inability to turn a profit, it looks like my friends in catering are getting pinkslipped just before we get blanketed with white this weekend. (That's probably a metaphor, but I wouldn't know. So, let's just say it means Aramark is suffocating bliss. Yeah, that's weird and indecipherable. Ah.) I can't say I am sorry to see them go, especially since they never once thought to consult me on the means of operation. Had they made one simple phone call, I could have let them in on a little secret, which I let you loyal readers in on back on October 27th. Oh well, I welcome the new regime, who call themselves, Flik, on Monday. You better have bagels, Flik.

This changing of the guard has prompted me to let out another one of my cutting edge management techniques. That's right, it's time for Condon to breakout his old Chief Awesome Officer jacket and gavel, and predict the future of the future Best Company Ever. I know right now you are wondering about the gavel. Don't worry, it's all part of the big plan. In my book, a gavel wields enormous power. The two biggest gavel users in today's society are judges and auctioneers. One has the ability to sentence you to prison, and the other can make you buy a yacht or painting for 20 thousand dollars more than you really have. Therefore, C.A.O. Condon has a gavel. But this fine bit of management isn't even today's tip. Since the last two have been staffing moves, let's keep the streak alive.

The IT Tech Support Department will be a NASCAR pit crew.

Imagine this typical, 9 to 5, everyday work scenario. You're working on your computer. You are working on a file, we'll call it the Penske File, for a 4 o'clock teleconference with Grand Rapids. 20 minutes before the call, your computer deep sixes, and you're left with an ominous blank screen and a good chance you may go the way of the aforementioned Aramark. Now in normal companies, you'd place a call to the IT Help Desk, and 4-6 hours later, you've at least got a work ticket to schedule some work, I don't know, tomorrow. But not the IT Pit Crew. It's a completely different vehicle.

Caller: "Uh, yes, I need to talk to Grand Rapids, I mean, the computer needs Rapids, I don't know, Grand file needs to Penske, umm...phoney phone at 4...must call with file...Grand Rapids...KABOOM!"

ITPC: "Thank you caller, we're on our way."

The instant the phone receiver hits the cradle, a rush of 6 men with headsets and tools file unbelievably quickly into the caller's cubicle. They are all dressed in flame-retardent body suits, with the corporate logo emblazoned across the chest in royal blue, and a much smaller patches of the company's customers' logos occupying any other remaining open space on the uniform. Sunglasses conceal the eyes of the six-pack of employees, as they evaluate the problem, eyes darting from monitor-to-laptop-to-wall-to-laptop. They know what to do.

The crew chief stands over the caller's desk, putting one foot up on the table and leaning his elbow on it while he supervises. If there's any department that needs someone there just to supervise, it's a NASCAR pit crew. Another man pulls the caller, now 18 minutes to deadline, back from the desk, still in chair, while a third has already wheeled his way under the caller's desk to check the computer from below. A fourth man has stepped in and is hammering away on the keyboard, running diagnostics and recovering the file. The fifth guy has gotten the Windex out, wiping down the monitor so that the caller can see the file in these waning moments without obstruction. And finally, the sixth guy is getting in the way.

With one final keystroke, Crewman #4 gives the Chief the Green Light. The Chief yells into his headset, and the crew disappears from the cube. The caller is pushed back to the desk with 9 minutes to spare, a drink of Gatorade, and a renewed sense of drive. The work gets done, all thanks to another brilliant management move by the Chief Awesome Officer.

Indeed.