I saw this post, and it reminded me of the best quick thinking I ever did.
Shortly after I was hired, I was on my first month-long business trip with (among others) an associate who wanted to be the next Wilt Chamberlain—not for basketball, but for the ladies. The only way he could fit in all his work and women was by consuming oceans of Starbucks coffee. He once claimed that after a 7 cup day, the only way he could sleep at night was after hooking up. I didn’t approve, but since X was going to write my annual reviews, I said nothing. I noticed that one night he brought a girl to a barbecue that our local office had. I thought it was odd that he was bringing one of his random chicks to a function, but it’s not my job to critique my supervisors’ morals, so I smiled and nodded.
Some weeks later, on a Sunday morning, we were starting to get ready for another hectic week. I dropped off some documents at X’s hotel room. Unsurprisingly, he had company: one of the hotel’s cocktail waitresses was lounging in the bed.
Our fabulous secretary called me just after I left the room. “Hubbard, where’s X?”
“His hotel room. Why?”
“Is he alone?”
“Of course not. Did you have to ask?”
“His fiancée is here and is heading to his room.”
“He’s engaged?”
“Yeah, he brought Y to the barbecue.” I remembered her name at least, thank God.
“Listen,” I told our secretary. “You tell X to clean up, and I’ll head off Y.”
I saw Y, and was still on the phone, so I then said loudly, “Yeah, I got it. Talk to you in a few when the project’s done.” I’d had my brilliant idea.
Then I said, “Hey Y, I just got a call from Z [X’s boss]. He wants some things from the work room. I just ran into X, and he’s tired from being up all night [true] so he asked me to pick him up some coffee [not true]. Could you get him a grande latte at Starbucks and I’ll take care of the boss?”
She agreed, and the crisis was averted. As soon as Y was out of earshot, I told our secretary what happened so she could tell X, whose phone number I didn’t have, what his cover story was. X wasn’t the kind of guy who answered phone calls from junior people like me or secretaries, but our ever-fabulous secretary simply borrowed Z’s cell phone and called him on that. Understanding a snob might be the best way to help him.
A few weeks after that incident, I ran into X and Y on the street. X had clearly been drinking, so when I said hi to them, he asked me, “Who are you?”
Y reminded him; she had only seen me twice; women and elephants never forget.
As for X and Y? Reader, she married him—alas.
Sometimes I wonder if that quick thinking was a mistake.
Posted by Hubbard in Vignettes, Excruciatingly Correct Behavior