Dick Scope is reviewing a single sheet of paper on an otherwise uncluttered desk as I tap on his door. When he looks up, I say, "Good morning, Dick. Kelly said you wanted to see me?"
"Jill," he says, barely moving a muscle, "Isn't Louise with you?"
"She has her door closed, Dick. How may I help you?"
He purses his lips and frowns. "I want to discuss the budget proposals that Louise gave me," he says.
"Would you like to talk now or make an appointment for another time?" I ask.
"We can discuss them now and review them with Louise later. Please sit," he says, opening a desk drawer.
Sit in one of the chairs facing his desk and watch him.
Dick files the single sheet of paper and then pulls out a copy of each plan and sets them in the center of his desk blotter. He rests his hands on either side of the papers and looks at them. Raising his eyes to mine, he says, "I compliment you on the simplicity of these plans you submitted to Louise, Jill."
Look at him, literally counting seconds. Count to twelve before he continues.
"I do have one question," says Dick. He looks at me for several more seconds before saying, "Jill, when I visit the doctor's office, he performs a thorough diagnosis before prescribing treatment. Naturally, when I read your communication plan, which describes a treatment plan for Doc's Place executives and managers, I look for analysis. I see none." He looks at me for another three seconds before asking, "What analysis did you conduct among us before proposing this treatment?"
"I met and talked with Larry Witty, Kevin McVay, Louise and you, Dick. It took me a few minutes in each case to realize that not one of you could or would articulate business objectives. The second and third tier, non-revenue, executive and management positions at Doc's Place'including you'lack rudimentary communication skills."
"That was your analysis?"
"Yes."
"That is not an analysis, Jill."
"Dick, one reason Peter hired me was to perform quick and accurate needs assessments. The result is this plan, which enhances effective communication among executives and managers."
"I can't remember every sentence of every job description, but it's not appropriate for you to criticize executives and managers. . . ."
"Oh, it's not only appropriate, it's my job." Stand, walk to his door and close it. Walk back around his desk and sit leaning against it next to him as Dick leans back, looking at me, his mouth open. Lean forward and say calmly and slowly, "Besides, a good executive appreciates criticism. Now, these plans have Peter's approval and executive approval, Dick, so approve the budgets."
He pushes his chair back slightly, and says, "Please sit down."
"I am sitting, Dick."
He stands and steps over to his window. "This is not appropriate. Number one, you sit down in one of those chairs, now."
With a sigh, I stand, walk around his desk and sit down.
The telephone rings. Dick snatches it up, and says, "I said hold my calls!" Suddenly, his eyes grow large, staring at me. "Yes, of course Mr. Marriott, if you wish. Wait a moment." Dick sits in his chair, punches a button and replaces the receiver carefully. He says, "You're on speaker, Mr. Marriott."
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