The Hierarchy

‘What did they say?!’ said the Manager. He banged his fists on the table a few times for good measure. He was in charge after all.

‘Donate it to charity,’ said the other Manager, with a casual flick of his hand, a raised eyebrow and pursed lips. He was in charge after all.

‘Donate? To charity?!’

‘That’s what they said.’

‘Let me get this straight, they got the most sales in the last six weeks, so you offered them the prize and they said-‘

‘Donate it to charity.’

‘Did they say why?’

‘They just said they didn’t want it.’

‘Didn’t want it? But, this is unprecedented, they always take the money, always-‘

‘This one didn’t.’

‘And did you?’

‘Did I what?’

‘Donate the money to…charity,’ he spat out the word as though it was poison on his lips. The other Manager raised his hands and shook his head.

‘I had to.’

‘You’re telling me that our money has gone to a…good cause?’

‘I’m afraid so.’

‘We can’t have this,’ said the Manager with a worried sigh. He got up from his chair and looked out his window. ‘They’re supposed to want the money, they do, they always do…what has happened here?’

‘I don’t know Greg, I don’t know.’ The other Manager looked at his obviously very expensive watch. He had work to offload to his secretary, after all.

The Manager turned around dramatically and looked at the other Manager with a defiant gaze.

‘Craig, I’m going to go speak to…the analysts.’

The other Manager began to laugh, ‘Good luck with that, I never know what they’re saying, they use hardly any buzzwords.’ He stood up with intentions of moving promptly to the door.

‘Yes, well that’s why I’m in charge,’ said the Manager. The other Manager left promptly, like he intended to. He wasn’t going to have that argument again today. He’d have it tomorrow.

The Manager entered the analysts’ office. Four people wearing glasses looked up from their computers at him. Two of them were women, much to his surprise. Once he realised this he paid them no more attention, and directed his questions at the two men. The women began instant messaging each other about the obvious disdain the Manager was showing them. The Manager was unaware of these clandestine communications.

‘So the model we use is based on Maslow’s hierarchy of needs,’ explained a mild-mannered man named Tom, after the Manager explained his predicament. ‘It sounds like that person is self actualising.’

‘Self…?’

‘Actualising. They have good self esteem, feel safe, and have enough food, shelter, all that, so now they’re expressing themselves.’

‘Express- they’ll goddamn express what I want them to express, how do I fix it???’

‘Well, you have to get them to think about something lower down the pyramid, cut their pay for instance so they’re thinking about how to pay their rent.’

The Manager considered this, ‘cut their pay yes, I see what you’re saying.’

‘Or you could just terminate them?’ said the other dude, Dave. He was not mild-mannered.

The Manager sighed. ‘Would that I could. Would that I could. They put a woman, of all people, in charge of HR, and now if you want to terminate someone you have to give her ‘reasons’. Reasons! Have you heard the like?! Bureaucracy gone mad!’ He stormed out the door. The analysts went back to playing minesweeper.

The Manager stormed in again. ‘And in the old days you could take out your pistol and do it yourself! Now you have to call in an outside contractor. For health and safety!’ He stormed back out again.

***

‘So they won again?’ said the Manager, standing behind his desk in an authoritative fashion.

‘They did,’ said the other Manager, tapping his foot impatiently.

‘And did they take the prize this time?’

‘Yes…and no.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘They asked if the prize could be a mahogany desk.’

‘A…are you serious?’

‘That’s what they said.’

‘Ma…ma..’ the Manager collapsed back into his chair. He could barely breathe. ‘I need you to leave.’ The other Manager left readily, he had plans to go admire his Audi.

The Manager swept the files on his desk onto the floor. Mahogany? Hadn’t he spent years trying to modernise the place? Getting rid of everything that was nice and good quality? He’d practically dedicated his whole career to it. They shouldn’t have even heard of mahogany, let alone want it, want it? They were messing with him now. He took his pistol out of the top drawer.

***

It was the head of marketing who noticed the four dead analysts, slumped in their office chairs.

The Manager was given a written warning, for carrying out a termination without putting in an application, and for carrying it out himself. The cost of cleaning the room was deducted from his pay.

***

‘And where do you think your behaviour slots in, on the hierarchy?’ said the other Manager, trying to sound nonchalant. He was disappointed that they hadn’t terminated the Manager, if they did he’d have taken possession of this office. His own office was just as nice, if not nicer, but this one was bigger, and he was in charge after all.

‘Shut it Craig, just…don’t.’

The other Manager smirked. ‘Well I’m just glad you didn’t terminate my best salesperson, or me.’

‘Why would I terminate you?’

‘Well this is it Greg,’ said the other Manager, with a glint in his eye. ‘I don’t know why you would terminate me, but you’re obviously unpredictable.’

‘Seriously now, knock it off or I will terminate you.’

‘Now now Greg, don’t let them hear you say that. They’re not going to forget this you know. They haven’t let you off, they’re just biding their time. And frankly I don’t blame them, they had to find new analysts that would definitely say the exact same things as the old ones, and my best salesperson threatened to leave unless I restored their pay.’

‘You restored their pay? But they’re dangerous.’

‘Oh I’m keeping an eye on them, don’t you worry about that, I am in charge after all.’

For the first time in his career the Manager didn’t feel he could have that argument. He leant across the desk. ‘Please Craig, please tell me you didn’t get them a mahogany desk, please?’

‘God no, I said accounts wouldn’t convert the prize for me, my hands were tied.’

‘What if they win again.’

‘To be perfectly honest with you I don’t think more than one week ahead.’

‘That explains a lot.’

‘Look where thinking about long term implications has gotten you.’

The Manager looked around the room slowly, for effect. ‘It looks to me Craig, that absolutely nothing has changed.’

‘One rule for some eh? They’ll let you no higher than this, mark my words.’

‘The salespeople will get more funny ideas now that you’re entertaining their “individual opinions”, you mark mine,’ said the Manager.

The other Manager stood up, ‘that was always in the model Greg, maybe you’re just behind the times.’

‘Me? Me?’ He sprang up from his seat. The other Manager ran for the door and slammed it behind him. He barricaded himself into his nice, but frankly small, office. Little did he know he wouldn’t have to stay in it for much longer.

The head of marketing must have a nose for this sort of thing. It was she who found the manager lying on his floor, cold hands clutching at his chest, eyes wide with the memory of the world collapsing.