Loyal readers, I watched, with extreme delight, as Randal was awarded a “position” with the Trump organization (not to go off topic, but I think his choice to work on the Atlantic City casino revamp was poor. Good luck pulling that billion dollar bomber out of its nose dive.).
Believe it, or not, I had secretly rooted for Randal all along. No, I’m not a bandwagon jumper. I honestly felt Randal was one of the most talented, and educated, participants ever to grace this reality template. He proved himself week after week, never losing a task he had control of. As for everyone else who participated, I say “blah”. Yes, I said blah.
I know, right now you’re belly aching “what about Rebecca, and her broken ankle?” For that, I will give her some credit, but, if you want to talk about someone who toughed out a broken ankle, then I give you Bobby Baun. For those of you who don’t know, Bob played the overtime period, in game 6 of the 1964 Stanley Cup finals, for the Toronto Maple Leafs, and scored the game winning goal. Then, two days later, played game 7 in its entirety, eventually going on to win the cup, and yes, he did all this with a broken ankle! To me, that’s toughing it out. Hobbling around on some crutches, not so much. But, I digress.
The reality is Randal deserved to win. Those of you, who disagree, give your head a shake (preferably close to something sharp). Randal will be an asset to Trump, no doubt. How can I be so sure that Randal was the best choice? Wasn’t he too nice to make it in the cannibalistic environment that is New York City? Hah! Randal proved he’s got what it takes not even two minutes into his victory.
Trump, in a plotted move, attempted to pull the “everybody feels good” stunt when he inquired to Randal about Rebecca, prodding him to admit that she, too, was deserving of a position with the Trump organization. Randal, in all his post victory glory, was having nothing to do with this sad display. He shut her, and this lame exploit, down tout sweet. And with a chorus of boos ringing in his ears, Randal made it known that there was room for only one apprentice, him. As he put it, “this was The Apprentice, not The Apprenti.” And with that, Randal stood, and extended his arms wide in victory. No one was going to dim his spotlight, not the production crew, not even Trump.
Bravo, Randal! Bravo! You, my friend, have shown America the way, the Evil Office way. For this I can only smile, and nod in approval.
I write many articles about this very type of behavior, maybe you’ve read one? Some of you agree with my Evil rants, rightly so. Some of you make it known, that such behavior, was to be avoided in the workplace, okay, I can see your point. But, some of you even went so far to call these deeds childish, unnecessary, and detrimental to the overall health of an office. To you, I can now laugh louder than before.
Randal proved my point. If you want to play with the big dogs, leave your compassion at the door. There is no room in a business career for it. You want to be compassionate? Find another career. Or, better yet, save the Mother Theresa act for after hours.
Personally, I’m very charitable, but do I bring that into my office? No, my acts of humanity are for my eyes only, not a tool for self promotion. My feet are firmly planted on the ground, not on a soapbox. But, when the office door closes, it’s all business.
You can disagree all you want. I know you will. In the end, though, I know that the selfish path is the safest path. Do you honestly think Trump became a millionaire by being compassionate? How about Gates? Anyone who’s read his life story knows that theft, manipulation, and greed were his tools to become one of the richest men on the planet. His recent charity, I believe, is a direct result of his marriage. His wife, bless her soul, was able to see through the fog of war, to a higher purpose. But that’s easy to do when you’re sitting on a pile of gold.
For the rest of us, until the day we can light cigars with hundred dollar bills, we’d better learn that emotional detachment is essential for personal success. The ladder you climb is only one person wide. If compassion drives you to want to stop, and let someone pass, then be prepared to have the soles of their shoes planted firmly in the middle of your face as they leap over you. And, in the end, the pain of my truth hurts a lot less than a wing tip kicking you in the face.
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