When he could talk, the donkey that had to come fresh from the pasture at the “leadership seminar with four-legged friends”. It might sound like this: Here come the new ones. I can see that, these are wannabe managers. One of them is afraid of stepping in the dirt with his expensive sneakers, he’s definitely going to be sent to me, I can feel that. Now he’s supposed to put the halter on me, he doesn’t even know where his head is at. I bared my teeth to startle him. Works! He dives away and looks stupid. I’ll bring him up to speed. The woman next to him looks quite nice, just smells terribly of sweet perfume. Still, I can smell her cold sweat. But she seems nicer, I let her scratch my ears and turn my back to the guy. Now we’re supposed to go up the hill and down again. How boring.
I brace myself firmly on the ground, buck and show off the manager. He talks too much for me, likes the role of alpha male. He should make a few attempts before I start running. I’m kidding him and stand there stubbornly. Luckily our owner takes over, I’m tame with him and immediately move forward. He tells his well-paying customers something about direct feedback: “Donkeys react to a lack of clarity, feel the slightest insecurity, defy pressure, need encouragement – they reflect inability just as much as difficult employees do.” Man, what a babble!
I pinch the manager in the side and kick him. A little bit of fun is always good. He looks stupid and his colleague laughs. Three more laps with the two-legged friends over the course, then the practical part of the seminar is over. There are apples for us, and a lecture for the participants. However: Enduring nervous managers is always better than dragging pot-bellied tourists up the Acropolis in 40 degrees without shade and, like my downtrodden peers, being kicked in the flanks by fat feet. In contrast, such a management seminar is pure relaxation.
In the “Nine to five” column, different authors write about curiosities from everyday life in the office and university.
