Brown Nosing

I don't do much of this myself, but the topic keeps surfacing around me.

Yesterday, Camilla sent an email around the office asking us to bring food Friday for going-away breakfast for a departing co-worker, Kathy. The last few lines of the email left me all agog that C put this sentiment regarding the section manager, Katrina, in writing.

Quoting C's email: "Oh, yes, I almost forgot...we would like to do breakfast at 8:00 a.m. in the morning because Katrina has a meeting at 8:30 a.m. and will not be available the rest of the day...what would a farewell be without the most important person in our section, Katrina Christian. "

Um, isn't Kathy the guest of honor?

And just now, my co-worker called our supervisor to ask if she wanted anything from McDonald's. When Y declined, C started an upsell campaign more relentless than anything I've heard at a fast food counter: How about a salad, do you want a salad? What about chicken tenders? Would you like a parfait? OK, I'll get you a garden salad--just so you know, they're pretty small. Is that all you want or can I get you something else? OK, I'll be back in a little bit!"

I have to think back to high school to recall a time I did something that intentionally ingratiating. I was nominated by my service club to be a candidate for the Sweetheart's Ball court. Each club nominated a member and two girls from each of the 3 participating high schools were chosen to make up the six-person court. The ballgoers then voted for a Queen.

All three nominees from SGHS were interviewed together and the YWCA council would pick two of us to represent our school. We were asked to name a person we admired. One girl said she admired her mom. The other said she admired Bishop Desmond Tutu.

I said I admired Mary Dean, a woman from my church who didn't let age or infirmity get in the way of her volunteer work. She toodled around town in her electric car giving rides to us kids and less able adults.

The brown nosing part: Mary Dean volunteered with the YWCA and I knew at least one of the interviewers KNEW Mary Dean personally and that the others were probably acquainted with her, too. I thought dropping her name would clinch my spot on the court.

Ah, fate. Guess who wasn't chosen.