Nice Guys Make Me Barf; GoogleMaps on Xkcd
At my current place, we are lucky to only have one a year. At my old job, BigPaper, we had three, two semi-annual ones and something called Personal Development review. I usually got off easy, though there was a time once when I walked unsuspectingly into a mid-year review and was handed a notice saying I had been put on a six-month probation for no good reason. The guy who did it left the company shortly thereafter, so his motives still remain a mystery. This was the second worst review I've ever had. My worst one was the one I had with my last supervisor at BigPaper, Andy the nice guy. (I wrote about Andy here.)
To say that Andy was a nice guy was an understatement. Andy was a pushover of epic proportions that made me look like a cold bitch with balls of steel (if bitches had balls). Problem with being a pushover when you have people reporting to you is that you don't just let everybody walk all over yourself. You also let everybody walk all over your people. That's why I didn't like working for Andy. But at least I expected the review to be short and sweet. True to his nice-guy nature, Andy scheduled the review to be held at lunch hour at a nearby restaurant. Lunch on the company. I found it a sweet gesture.
The two of us sat down in a corner and spread our papers around. I ordered meat and asked for medium well. Even though I know rare meat is tha shit, I never order it because I cannot handle it. It makes me physically sick. Having ordered, Andy and I went back to my review, which was as good as I'd expect it from my Andy. In my turn, I told him what a high intellect he had and suggested that he join the local Mensa, as I thought he'd enjoy the activities. (I still think he should go for it.) Some thirty, forty minutes later our food came. With some difficulty, I cut into the steak and was surprised to find it was gushing blood.
"Is medium well supposed to be bloody?" I asked Andy. "You think maybe I should send it back?" I didn't want to do it myself, because Andy was the one paying, and it was, after all, my work review. I didn't want to undermine his authority by sending back the food he had paid for, in the middle of a business meeting that he had called. You can tell I'm somewhat of a pushover myself.
Looking over at my half-cut meat, Andy squirmed, proclaimed the meat good, and very enthusiastically showed that he didn't want to start a row with the restaurant by sending food back. Oh well, thought I, it's his call.
We finished my review, both chewing absent-mindedly on our food. I started feeling queasy shortly before we got into Andy's car to drive back. Barely made it to the office, thanked Andy for the review and the meal, made a mad dash for the bathroom, and with alarming speed upchucked Andy's gift.
Moral of the story, never let a nice guy buy you food, and, if you do, grow a pair and send it back yourself if it sucks. Even if he doesn't want you to; even if it will get you dinged on your next review. Odds are, nice guy won't last till your next year's review anyway.
Also, today's xkcd comic is so good, I just have to share. We just came back from a camping trip at a new place and had to get directions off the Internet, too. We did however manage to avoid the spectral wolf this time.