The Bull

Claudia’s nails tapped rhythmically on the table as Simon droned on about his favorite thing in the world: Himself. Simon is our boss or as we like to call him, the Bull. If it’s not about Simon or what Simon wants, then it’s irrelevant. Every morning we have these 45-minute meetings to hear about how amazing his life is and his activities after we left work. It’s as if he thinks that we’re all waiting with bated breath to be rapt with tales of his wild bachelor life and highly derogatory debauchery.

We should say something right? Wrong. Tonya said something to HR about Simon mentioning an Eiffel Tower, not the beautiful Parisian structure, that he did with a buddy and HR said they would look into it. Within two months, Tonya was let go due to ‘downsizing’ along with other offenders and now works at FedEx Kinkos. This happens every few months and we call it Simon’s Purge.

You see, work is stressful enough without having to deal with ineffective leadership. Especially when your leader believes there is in fact an “I” in team. Seriously, he does. Everyone’s ideas are shut down because the only ideas worth having are Simon’s. But don’t be surprised if you see your idea in a presentation with a client. It only means that Simon’s take was trash and he needed to salvage the pitch. Don’t worry about getting credit for it because you won’t. Sam confronted him about using his idea once and Simon ‘oddly’ had no recollection of this. When Sam posed it to the room? Crickets. No one had his back. People have families and knew retaliation was strong with Simon. No one wants to face his wrath. I’ve always been the type of person not to make waves. Though I felt guilty not making them that day. Regrets, you know.

“See Sam, no one knows what you’re talking about. You shouldn’t try to claim things that aren’t yours. It’s not right,” said Simon, patronizing tone in full effect. The hypocrisy.

With that, Sam never spoke up again. No one likes not getting credit for their stuff. Many of us don’t even share and when we do share an idea, we know it’s crap. Simon encourages sharing though. If whatever he has tanks, then he has a backup. You see his problem is that he doesn’t listen. Never quite mastered that skill. And because he doesn’t, he never really knows what the client wants. He went to Princeton and graduated top of his class, according to him. He worked hard to build this business that his parents paid for and bought. I’m pretty sure he’s only doing this because he needs something to do to make him feel important and that’s why you start a business, right? You know, I heard of this mythological legend where companies value their employees’ input and nurture their growth. I know. Nonsense.

“Alright, guys. Today we have the bee people coming. I’m presenting to them my #Buzzed idea. They are going to love it because, I mean, how could they not?”

Hmm. They won’t. The bee people he is referring to is Bee Balm, a skincare company who specializes in creams and ointments for insect related stings and bites. They are looking for an agency to promote their new campaign for their all-purpose balm using honey. So, pitching a social media promotion called #buzzed doesn’t exactly make sense. People will just think it’s about bee stings or honey or bees in general. It’s another case of him being completely clueless. It’s sad because I had an amazing idea for it but don’t want it to get stolen. Also, he tells us he’s pitching as if this is a paradigm shift from the norm. Only he pitches which is unfortunate. You wouldn’t believe how many of them he’s bombed and how many clients we’ve lost in part to his inadequacies.

This isn’t what I wanted for my life. I got my marketing degree at UC Berkeley, graduated magma cum laude and had a portfolio ranging from all the internships I did. All that hard work and I end up here, where I feel unappreciated, uninspired and undervalued. I was painted a picture of what this place was like in my research and interview and have strong grounds for false advertising. His company was voted “Top Places to Work”. Apparently, they don’t ask the employees to weigh in on this. I’ve been here 3 years and have only gotten one bonus, a 2% raise and bullshit award certificates that no one cares about. Well, the brown nosers do. They love eating shit. Especially from the Bull.

Why this name, you ask? Bull could be short of bully. He throws his weight around every chance he gets. He involuntarily enters us, women included, in dick measuring contests all the time.

“Have you been to Ibiza? Of course, you haven’t.”

“Something is going on with my Maserati. Oh sorry, a Maserati is…”

“A buddy of mine asked me to join his hedge fund. You wouldn’t be able to afford it.”

When he isn’t doing that, he is leaving piles of shit all over the office. Bullshit. Tim put in months ago for vacation time for a family trip, but Simon didn’t approve it and said we needed all hands-on deck for a shoe client pitch. We had to come in on the weekend to finalize everything. When we got here, Claire, Simon’s assistant, informed us that Simon had to take an emergency trip to Cabo. While we were at the office, his social media was flooded with pics of him on the beach with some models. So, it was a real emergency. Of course, he looked over everything we did, made the pitch and took credit for it in front of the client.

“You don’t know all the all-nighters I had to pull on this but anything for a potential client.”

The same thing has happened to many of us. Don’t even tell him where you’re going, or he’ll not approve it and go himself. He doesn’t like being outdone. Don’t even think about applying to other firms. Cheryl tried that and got a scathing referral by Simon when the other company called. He’s blocked so many people from getting jobs with decent firms it’s absolutely ridiculous.

Anyway, it is almost 3pm and he asked Tina, Carolyn, Claudia, Sam, Tim and me to be in the pitch to the ‘bee people’ before our morning meeting adjourned. I head into the conference room. Claudia puts a finger gun to her head and pulls the trigger. Simon is working himself up in the corner for his performance. He chants these affirmations about how he’s a big boy and he can do big boy things. I kid you not. This is the bullshit that comes straight from the source.

Like a force, Kim Wen and her entourage enter the room. First generation Chinese American, immigrant parents from a hard-working family, Kim Wen built her business from the ground up. She’s only 27 and owns a multi-million-dollar company. Very impressive.

“Konnichi wa!” shouts Simon.

“I’m not Japanese. I’m Chinese,” she stated, unamused. “How about we just start?”

“Okay…”

I’ll spare you the details. This pitch was sinking faster than the Titanic. Simon’s idea was completely missing the mark. I glanced over at Ms. Wen, and she was looking at the floor, her eyes glazed over with disinterest and boredom.

“Well, I think I’ve heard enough. Do you have anything else?”

“I…well…I…no…yes… I think if you give the idea a little more thought…”

“Okay. Well, we’ll let you know.”

She begins to gather her things when I decide to speak up. I’m tired of all the inaction in my life. Time to make some waves.

“Well, actually, I had an idea. Bees are often times feared by people because they are synonymous with pain from bee stings, but people love honey which also comes from bees. Also in your products are other ingredients that are taken from other insects. Insects that are known as a nuisance or pest. I say use the two together. The problem is the cure. The problem is the solution.”

“Interesting. Go on.”

“It’s an idea I came up with when doing research on your products…”

As I was speaking, I did take note of everyone’s face. They all were shocked that I spoke up. Simon was parts shocked, pissed and something else I can’t place.

“It was my idea that I mentioned to you at lunch, remember?”

Everyone turned to Simon who had interjected at this moment. Poised to steal yet another idea. Not today.

“Okay, then you can explain the ingredients that I’m talking about and what insects they take from.”

Simon’s eyes narrowed. He had no fucking clue what I was talking about, but it was going to be fun to watch him try.

“Yes, I’d like to hear that?” Ms. Wen chimed in.

“You know…that…I…perhaps, that was your idea.”

“To answer your question, the Chinese Black Mountain Ant which has been used in Chinese culture for years. Also, termites and grasshoppers.”

“Fascinating isn’t it. And only one of those we like when it’s alive,” she joked.

“Yes, but we might as well put them all to good use.”

“Agreed. Your name?”

“Malcolm. Malcolm Brown.”

“Well, Malcolm, it is very nice to meet you and a great concept. I would like to see it fully envisioned. So, I’ll come back in a week to see what you have.”

“We’ll have something amazing for you Ms. Wen.” Simon interjected.

“And if it isn’t already apparent, I would like Malcolm running point on this.”

You could see Simon’s facial expressions falter from Ms. Wen’s request, but he plastered on a fake smile and said, “I couldn’t agree more.”

With that Ms. Wen and her entourage left and we dispersed. Everyone covertly gave me thumbs up or low fives as we returned to our desks. Simon walked out with Ms. Wen and returned glaring in my direction. I wasn’t fully sure that he was until Brenda sent me a text saying, “He’s out for blood!!!”

Within five minutes, Claire called my phone and said I’d been summoned to Simon’s office.

Upon entering the room, Simon was faced towards the glass away from me. There was a pewter bull sitting on his desk. I guess he’s fully embracing it. I took the seat opposite him, and we sat in silence.

“What was that in there?” his voice breaking through the quiet.

“I don’t follow.”

“That interjection where you stomped all over my pitch,” he groused, turning around with fury in his eyes.

“She said she was leaving and wasn’t feeling the idea. I didn’t think you would WANT to lose a potential client, so I went for it. And she loved it and that’s what’s important. What the client wants, right?”

His frown lines were in full effect. At this rate, he was going to need Botox.

“Of course. But don’t you remember when I mentioned this to you before?” he pushed.

“No. I don’t remember that. You said we talked at lunch. I haven’t had lunch with you since the first year I was here. I did my homework on their products. I put in the work. And I know you would want to make sure people get credit for their ideas, right?”

Staring. He is just staring at me with this scowl that makes him look years beyond his age. He needs to smile. Scowling doesn’t become him.

“Yes, but…”

“So maybe, you were mistaken. It’s okay. It happens. I’d like to assemble a team on this. I want to get started right away. The client is counting on us to get this right.”

“Make. Your. Team.” he gritted out.

“Great!”

And with that I exited the office. The first battle has ended, and it was rough, but it doesn’t compare to the war to come.