Low Hanging Fruit

The dead man hung over the boardroom table.

The hangman’s noose affixed to the ceiling rafter was well tied so his shoes just barely hovered above the table and his body lazily swayed back and forth, never fully coming to a complete rest.

The Consultant sat on one side of the table in a dark blue custom suit, and the founder and his accountants on the other. They all wore grey three button suits. The room itself was large and lavish, with a large perimeter of floor space around the table, and an abstract painting on the wall at the end of the room.

It was meant to feel powerful, and it did. However, the Consultant happened to have chosen the chair directly opposite the dead man and was currently kicking himself when there were fifteen alternate chairs he could have chosen.

How did he end up here of all places?

He had arrived early as was his nature. He signed in at the front and took the elevator to the fourth floor where he was promptly greeted by a friendly administrator whose smile was just a bit too large to be genuine.

He had accepted a bottle of water, mostly out of politeness and was ushered into the large boardroom. The administrator for her part had rolled her eyes upon seeing the dead man and, muttering under her breath had proceeded to right the container of pens that his hanging feet had kicked over.

The Consultant had noticed that among the spilled pens was a silver Japanese Rollerball. Surely it must have been left here by accident, as no sane person would include such a thing in a bulk store room order.

He was so enthralled by the simplistic design that he couldn’t take his eyes off it. This of course meant that he sat without thinking and ended up right in front of the dead man.

Ah, the pen of course. I suppose that was worth it. He was something of a collector and certainly did not have a Japanese Rollerball, although now it rested safely in his briefcase on the floor. As satisfying as this was, it did not remedy his current state of extreme annoyance.

Across from him, the Owner was trying to speak, and the Consultant was trying to listen as was his job, but the dead man’s legs were obstructing their eye contact. Not only that, but his incessant swaying meant that they were constantly leaning to the left or the right on both sides of the table.

The Owner continued.

“As I was saying, this company was built from the ground up so I’m sure you’ll appreciate our grass roots values. Our people are important to us, and if this merger is to take place, I want to make sure that they are all taken care of.”

The Consultant scribbled a note in his pad. He really couldn’t wait to try the Japanese Rollerball. For now though he would have to make do with his classic French Fountain Pen. He did like the carving sound it made as he scribbled across the page. He often imagined this was what it must like to be a therapist, scribbling in your book and wielding your wisdom.

Well, what he did was kind of like therapy. Therapy for your business. He finished his note and cleared his throat.

“Certainly. As you know I have been engaged…”

He moved his head to the side as the feet swung ever so slightly left.

“...have been engaged as a third party to understand how your business is run, what the people are like and of course, how profitable the result of those two things combined is.”

Now leaning the other way. They had a rhythm now on both sides and seemed to be managing.

He continued, ever so delicately pushing his glasses up with his index finger.

“I like to start with the people. It helps me to understand the rest later. Finances and systems can be fixed. People are who they are. So…”

Leaning right.

“So, you mentioned the grass roots values of your business. What did you mean by that?”

The Owner straightened, readying his pre-prepared answer. This train of thought interrupted his leaning though so instead he stared straight ahead trying to pretend there was no body dangling from the ceiling directly in front of him.

“Although I make the decisions, I am only one man. It takes a village, and nowhere will you find a team more committed and more caring than this one.”

Leaning left.

“What about turnover?”

“Well, Jim here…” the Owner motioned to his left. “...has been here for seven years, and Dave…” he motions to his right. “...has been here almost four.”

Leaning right.

The Consultant nodded. “What is the average tenure here?”

The Owner frowned and clucked his tongue. He looked at Jim. “What do you figure? 5 years? 10?” He leaned back and clasped his hands behind his head.

“We’ve had significant growth over the last two years, so there are many people right around that two year mark. Beyond that, we have many of the original team still here.”

The Consultant nodded and scribbled in his book. “What about burnout?”

The Owner frowned. “What do you mean?”

Leaning left.

“Well…high stress situations can result in mental, emotional or physical health issues which would hamper an individual’s ability to do his or her job. This is often an indication of poor systems resulting in reactive and frantic firefighting instead of proactive and creative decision making.”

Leaning right.

The Owner looked left and right at his two accountants who both shrugged. “No sir, not here. We would have noticed if somebody had issues like that.”

He looked like he may have continued if except at that very moment the boardroom doors burst open revealing the smiley faced administrator from earlier.

“Lunch is here!” She turned and entered backwards pulling a cart with a plate of sandwiches, a dessert plate and various juices. The wheels squeaked as it rolled in. She rolled it up just behind the Owner and his accountants and turned to smile but her face paled.

She shook her head. “Unbelievable. These things never manage to stay up.” She reached past the Owner and grabbed the container of pens that had spilled once again. We hadn’t even noticed. She grabbed the container and clunked it down with a thud.

“Bon appetite!” She smiled again. Once again the Consultant didn’t quite believe her.

“I hope you don’t mind…” the Owner began. “I’ve invited the staff for lunch. I thought it would be an excellent opportunity for you to meet them first hand, then you may continue your questions with the team this afternoon.”

“Excellent!” The Consultant nodded. He was beginning to warm up to the Owner, but still, something seemed off and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

A moment later the chattering of voices could be heard and a group of men and women piled into the boardroom.

For the next thirty minutes the sound of chatter and laughter could be heard. The Consultant was delighted to have an opportunity to tell his Belize diving story, and even the accountants cracked a smile when the administrator made a joke about IT. In fact the only person in the room who didn’t look happy was the IT guy. This was obvious in the way he abruptly shoved the dead man’s legs out of the way after the third time they bumped his plate.

Apparently his department was down a man and now he was irritated about having to do all the work until a replacement could be found.

Eventually the team returned to their respective offices. The Owner had politely excused himself to take a phone call and the accountants were nowhere to be found.

The Consultant sat down with a sigh and a full belly. As he stared at the laces of the dead man’s shoes his eyebrows shot up as he thought of something.

He glanced over at the door, and then leaned over to his briefcase and pulled out the Japanese Rollerball. It was cool to the touch and glinted under the boardroom lights.

He removed the cap ever so delicately and smoothed out a new page in his notebook. Inside in practiced sprawl he wrote:

“Company culture seems to be strong. However, the pen container issue may have legs. Suggest immediate action.”