We hit it off within the first couple of days of meeting. And by meeting, I mean when he joined my team. He came highly recommended, was easy going and keen to help. His pleasant mannerisms were of the kind that drew people towards him.
Within a couple of weeks, we discovered we had much in common both professionally and socially. We shared a long-term passion for the same hobby, compared noted on many travels, even enjoyed listening to some daggy tunes from the 80s.
For many months, we worked well together. The quality of Adam’s output was above all others, always thorough and analytical. Professionally, he was my equal but he had chosen a position of lower rank for personal reasons. And he never undermined my authority nor expressed any desire in the more stressful nature of my work. He often offered assistance to me or others if needed, ensuring his tasks were completed first. Consequently, I bounced ideas off him and he was a good source of knowledge.
Outside of our jobs, I could see an alliance forming, even a potential friendship and house visits. With a lot in common, we hit it off on a personal level, occasionally sharing amusing anecdotes and experiences from our past.
As his boss, I did my best to promote his skills, and that of another team member, ensuring superiors were aware of their valued contribution. I have a habit of encouraging those with potential, developing them under my wing and ensuring they are noticed by management for future opportunities. When I received a rare email of gratitude from senior managers, I never took the full credit when the work effort was shared with others. And that included Adam’s contributions.
When the major piece of work was near completion, and the team was about to be disassembled, we both expressed our hope that we would get the chance to work together again. A show of sentimentality, perhaps, but not unusual; I have made some lasting friends over time through work contacts.
But when the time came to leave, I noted a change in his attitude. He started keeping to himself a lot, hiding his screen when I entered his workspace and he had little to say in terms of the usual chit-chat. He suddenly befriended the people he outwardly didn’t respect in the past and I sensed something was taking place behind the scenes. Unfortunately, my suspicions were real.
It has been a while since I have left that workplace, whereas his last minute politicking ensured him a more permanent role. We met one time socially in a group setting and the awkwardness was palpable. I could sense the guilt in him and I consciously kept a certain distance.
Last week I received an email from someone who works with him, voicing her dissatisfaction with work and the newfound stifling ambience. “You should see how Adam has changed,” she said. “No longer the nice guy we knew. Always dumping the hard work on us. Always in the boss’s ear. Barely doing any work but giving everyone orders. Yet he’s not in charge of anything. Who would have thought he’d turn out the way he did?”
I wasn’t surprised. I had seen his true colours the moment he dipped his hands in the brown muck of corporate politics. People have a way of disappointing sometimes. You just have to let them go.
