Family anniversary effect

The anniversary of the company's IPO was approaching. And since it happened to be a round anniversary, it became clear that a special and solemn celebration was necessary. Preparations began in full swing – the lineup of invited guests was impressive, and the prospect of a botched anniversary was out of the question. The CEO quickly distributed extra tasks to all departments, which were already burdened beyond any reasonable norm.

And so:

marketing employees, as a community service initiative and after work hours, bombarded the city center with leaflets praising the CEO and the company's power. They operated methodically, moving in fours; each four was guarded by a trusted company official.

Employees from the logistics department decorated the office building's walls with wall posters, the main theme of which was: the president and the powerful. They ran frantically through the dozens of floors, comparing the sizes of cut-out letters and gluing up anything that stubbornly refused to hang.

They were often seen these days with disheveled hair, glue in one hand, scissors in the other, and colored paper in their teeth.

Employees from the Proposal and Bid Analysis department were tasked with developing the set design for the auditorium where the official portion of the event was to take place. In practice, this meant arranging ribbon-like rows of chairs, blowing up balloons, and tying ribbons. This was no easy task, as the ideas for where things should stand or hang changed from hour to hour.

Additionally, the president hired specialists in positive vibrations and water veins. As a result, two whole days were spent determining where the ribbons would have the best feng shui.

At first glance, the employees of the Complaints Registration Department were given a relatively easy task: they were to act as clappers in case the rest of the audience didn't respond spontaneously enough. In practice, it turned out that clapping wasn't such an easy task; they clapped unevenly or didn't shout enthusiastically enough, not to mention that some were hoarse or even hiccupping. It proved necessary to hire a specialist who, during a series of boring lectures, introduced the Registration Department to the secrets of the art. The president jointly and severally charged the department employees with the hefty costs of hiring the lecturer.

The accounting department painstakingly developed a scenario for the ceremony. The order of speeches, the number of applause breaks, the types of drinks for each toast were carefully determined, stage movements were planned, and consideration was given to which ambassador should sit first – in short, the drama was built.

The Department of Segregation and Standardization, meanwhile, prepared the content for the president's special address. The president set demanding requirements: the speech should be witty, brilliant, allusive, full of digressions, brimming with quotations from classics and, of course, excerpts from the company's stock market performance. At the same time, it should be interesting, nostalgic, forcing reflection, contemplation, and broader considerations about life, not just business. And most importantly! The president would ask a question on average every three minutes, and a joke would appear in the speech. And a good one at that! The poor department employees struggled with the word and burned each failed version of the speech in front of the committee. Fisticuffs often broke out – some argued that it would be better to say "however" instead of "because." And that was reason enough to start fighting. Nervousness grew as the gala date approached.

And the president was watching over everything.

At weekly, company-wide meetings, he exposed inconsistencies, condemned omissions, pointed out mistakes, and demolished everything the employee collective had so painstakingly created.

And once again, everything turned out to be wrong and utterly rubbish.

From the way the balloons were blown up ("inefficient and unproductive!") to the sheer number of commas in the president's speech ("Oh my goodness, it's flying before my eyes!").

So balloons were inflated, commas were cut, and full stops were castrated.

Then the day arrived.

A line of limousines pulled up in front of the building, and a crowd of elegant suits stormed the main entrance. Trained employees worked efficiently – collecting coats, packing expensive brooches into company safes, seating everyone, and replenishing toilet paper wherever someone happened to use up the rolls.

The moved president staggered to the podium, glanced at the script, and began reading what was written there. Everything was going well until the third minute. After finishing his introductory remarks, the president went so far afield that, with a trembling voice, he read everything as it was written, not forgetting the stage directions. It went something like this:

"...and therefore, full of the most sincere feelings and deeply obliged that the distinguished ladies and gentlemen have wished to come, I wish to welcome you." Here the President turns to the right and makes a slight bow, not at all obsequious, but redolent of respect. He welcomes first the Minister without Portfolio for Important and Fundamental Matters, thanking him at the same time for finding a moment to honor himself...and so on.

The incident would probably have passed unnoticed had it not been for a sudden, loud snort from somewhere in the fifth row, indicating someone desperately trying to hold back laughter.

The clappers immediately sprang into action, but it was too late. The President was deeply hurt by the snort.

It didn't matter that the rest of the gala went off without a hitch – the president was constantly aware that someone had snorted on him and was trying to figure out who it could be.

A confidant of the president, Mr. Sawicki, conducted a small investigation, setting in motion a well-functioning network of informants. After two hours, it was clear that the snorter was none other than the director of the Analysis Department, a certain Światek.

A frightened Światek was brought before the president.

"Please sit down, director. Would you like some cognac?" the president asked in a fatherly tone. "

Thank you, Mr. President. I don't drink at work..."

"How many years have you been working for us, sir?"

"Eight..."

"And how many years has your wife been working for us?" "Seven..." "And how many years has your brother-in-law been employed? "

"Six..." " And your brother-in-law's brother?" And a cousin of someone on your grandmother's side? "Edek, four years, and Mietek, only two... " "Yeah... Well, I see we have a well-coordinated team of related professionals who understand each other well! It's probably time to promote everyone, don't you think, Mr. Swiatek?" the president smiled benevolently. "We, as management, greatly value the teamwork talents of our staff! Besides, family is power!" " I wouldn't dare ask, Mr. Swiatek," he swallowed hard. "We're very happy in our positions... and we're fulfilling ourselves..." "And yet!" the president looked at the ceiling. "I have an offer for you you can't refuse!" The next day, the Swiatek family reported to work in a foul mood. They were equipped with the appropriate equipment, and with gloomy faces, they set out to fulfill themselves in a slightly different way than before. Showing great generosity, the president graciously released the entire company from the obligation to clean their former, private offices.