I am writing this blog with a very serious look on my face, after all, I am supposed to be working on fixing a myriad of issues and demands that I am painfully aware will not be possible.
But when the room’s mood is grim and somber, you can’t be jolly-eyed and bushy-tailed, you know?
I feel compelled to write this right now and take the risk of being caught not saving the world, because I must be sure to capture what just occurred here, I fear that if I wait longer than a sneeze, I will have lost too many details.
As you can probably imagine, we are on-site. It’s funny how the word on-site should mean different things to different people, but it really doesn’t. On-site is like Narnia, more like Mordor actually. It’s this lost in space-continuum of a place where the exact same things happen to all who dare enter it.
So we are in day 3, 30 hours of work in, when it all finally falls apart. That Berlin Wall of a moment when you know, sufficient things have gone Pisa tower on you, and there is no going back. Normally, the same chain reaction occurs: The murmurs, the nervous shaking of heads, the tsssks tsssks and the “I need a drink” facial expressions.
But oh no – not this guy – this guy is a natural born overachiever. He will take his physical display of anger and frustration to a new level. I am gathering, from his reaction, he has been preparing for this his whole entire adult life. He is thinking to himself, “this is it, this is the moment where I will let it all go”.
As he was being told a string of “bad news” (and we know that in this industry a piece of “bad news” is strictly related to impossible high expectations often set by Sales people) his face was getting more and more flushed. You could see the frustration in his core manifesting itself as a blood pressure of 180.
I think he was being held to social standards we all adults should adhere by (lucky toddlers), but in reality this guy wanted to scream, kick the desk, and maybe even punch someone. His restrain to do said things, caused his entire face to turn bright red, a red I had never seen on a human before, except on some sunblock-lacking tourist in Cabo.
When his coworker asked him if he was going to be ok, (I believe she was referring to a possible heart attack, but I could be speculating) is when I noticed that every team that gets deployed to do on-site work, should travel with an emergency kit that should include blood pressure medication, antacids, linden tea, a paper bag to breath into for hyperventilation and as last resort, a disposable tequila shot.
I’d like to call this the “John McEnroe” relief kit.