Chapter Thirteen
Free Ride
On a sunny hot July day, I was summoned to Chuck’s office. Yes, he had a real office. Along with the new plant, there was also an office building being constructed. Chuck and Victoria were the first occupants. The offices had doors, carpeting, comfortable furniture, windows, and walls that weren’t made out of plywood and paneling. It was at the top of my dream list to also move in there one day. Pretty pathetic set of goals, Mick.
“Hey, boss, everything alright?”
It sure looked like everything was, indeed, alright. Chuck’s third floor spacious office was a palace compared to his previous (and my current) accommodations. He looked like a captain of industry sitting in his high-backed office chair behind his brand new desk.
“Yeah, Mick, it’s all good. How could I not be good living in this brand new building? Pretty impressive, isn’t it? Speaking of impressive, I wanted to let you know that I am quite impressed with you, young man.”
“Is it because I let you win at golf?”
“The only thing we need to work on is knocking some of that smart aleckness out of you.”
“Sorry.”
“No, you’re not. If you are free this Saturday night, my wife, Rhonda, and I would love to have you come over to the house for dinner.”
“I’d be honored.”
“You bet I would. My wife is a world class cook. Just smelling her pot roast is an honor that is only bestowed upon the very few. So, here are the directions. See you at six. And, Mick…”
“Yes, sir”
“Try to do something about that odor.”
It was rather odd to feel honored and insulted simultaneously. I guess you can take the boy out of the pilot plant but you can’t take the G34-x-B2 out of the boy.
I must have showered six times on Saturday until the hot water ran out and my skin was rubbed raw. I sprayed on various amounts of everything from Old Spice and English Leather to some Hai Karate I had leftover from junior high. Dreamboat had definitely sprung a few leaks and was on her last legs, but she managed to get me up Chuck’s beautifully wooded winding driveway. Getting back home promised to be a fifty-fifty adventure at best. Thank God for Triple A.
I gasped as I rounded the last bend in the driveway and his house came into sight. It was a large stately two story lodge made out of Carolina Pine logs with a huge wrap-around porch. It sat on a rise overlooking a mile of tree covered valley and a small sparkling lake. It literally took my breath away.
Chuck came out into the circular end of the drive to meet me and read my thoughts. “Kind of takes your breath away, doesn’t it? When I come home from a tough day at the plant, one look out over the valley, and all my cares melt away.”
“Yeah, Charles, I can see why. It’s beautiful”
We both silently stared at the tranquil scenery. It was nice sharing a rare tender moment with my boss. That moment was shattered when he said, “Can you park this rust bucket around back? The homeowner’s association might fine me if they see it in front.”
Although he was grinning when he said that, I proceeded to nose Dreamboat as far to the rear of the house as I could. As advertised, when I walked in the front door, I was greeted by an incredibly delicious smell coming from the kitchen. I was hoping it would mask any diametrically opposed smell that might be coming off of me. I was slightly embarrassed when Max, their black Chihuahua terrier mix, took a tentative sniff of my pant leg, let out a whelp, and ran off to hide. Chuck, playing the gracious host and country gentleman in his own abode, pretended not to notice.
“Welcome to my humble home. And this is the little woman.”
First of all, the house was anything but humble. I’m not an interior designer or anything like it, but I know good style and elegance when I see it. Both Mrs. G. and the furnishings in the house had an enormous helping of both. The feeling of an upper class lodge carried over from the outside to the inside of the house. The family room first caught my attention with its huge stone fireplace, polished wood floors, Navajo rugs and large seating areas with chairs and sofas that were made out of logs but looked like you would fall asleep the minute you dropped into them. The far wall was all glass with a forever view of the valley and lake. After taking this all in, my attention was quickly snatched away by Mrs. G. She was a tall slender blonde that looked like her twenty-nine plus years had been very good to her. Her blue eyes contained a twinkle that immediately put me at ease and made me feel welcome in their home.
“And Charles, I suppose I should start introducing you as the little man?”
“Touché, my dear. I meant to say ‘This is the love of my life and the finest and funniest woman God has ever created.’”
“Good save. Mick, make yourself comfortable. I’m going to go fix us all some martinis before dinner. Gin or vodka?”
I wondered if she had a younger sister. Dinner actually exceeded the sterling advance notice put out by its aroma. It was superb. The perfectly cooked bone-in rib eye and mashed potatoes and gravy were a cut above my usual noodles. Strawberry shortcake topped off the meal. I tried not to eat like a starving wolf, but it was a challenge. After dinner, Charles excused himself to make a call and check on the plant. Rhonda poured brandies from a crystal decanter and sat across from me by the fireplace.
“Mick, I don’t know if Charles told you that we never had kids. We do love Max like a child and treat him that way. By the way, where did he go? Anyway, I know Charles likes to give you a hard time, but, deep down, I think he views you as the son he never had.”
“Rhonda, I’m touched. I think a lot of him, too.”
“That’s wonderful. But please don’t ever tell him. He is the world’s nicest guy and best husband, but he hates all that sentimental stuff. He usually shows his affection through his mild insults and teasing.”
Wow. He must really like me then.
Charles rejoined us and plopped down on the sofa. “Mick, you and I like to kid around a lot. But I am not kidding with what I am about to say.”
Ah, man. Not layoffs at the plant starting with me, I hope.
“Ok, I will put on my serious face and big boy pants for this one. Lay it on me, Charles.”
At this point, Mrs. G. stood and gave me a thousand watt smile and a sly wink. She excused herself to go tend to the dishes.
“Remember when you came in here to interview as a snot-nosed kid from Iowa?”
“Ohio.”
“Whatever. I told you that there was upward potential at Woodland. Well, here it is. I’m going to make you an offer I hope you can’t refuse. It’s going to require a good chunk of your free time, a ton of work, and the ability to stick to it even when you hate it more than life itself.”
How could you even think about turning down an offer that started out with those promising words? But, what the hell? I had already faced adversity and bad times like:
Losing to Tallmadge High
Cindy announcing she was moving North Carolina (bad, at first).
Finding Cindy conducting the band director in the ways of love
Thinking in bullet list format. This was something I think I could overcome if I:
Concentrated differently
Quit trying to be logical
Stopped using PowerPoint
Anyway, what Chuck was about to lay on me surely would be a walk in the park compared to what I had already been through.
“Mick, we have a development fund at Woodland to help groom our more promising young staff.”
I turned around in my chair and looked behind me.
“Yes, I’m talking about you, wise guy. I have always been a big believer in furthering our abilities through education. I know you gave up college to follow your dream, even thought it might have been a love sick puppy one. You have a real aptitude for nuts and bolts and a good dose of common sense between your ears. But you are a bit green. So, Woodland i
s offering to pay for you to take a series of night and weekend business, management, and mechanical classes at Asheville Buncombe Technical College.”
Hmmm? Give up my free time that I now spend sweating in my trailer, throwing duct tape for Earl’s dog, and going blind from studying plant diagrams just to further myself as a person, move up the ladder at Woodland and maybe get an office in the new administration building? Tough decision, that one.
“When do I start, sir?”
“That’s my boy. Good attitude. Here is a course schedule. Why don’t you go over on Monday afternoon and sign up.”
“You got it. Thanks!”
“There’s more. That hunk of junk you are driving is going to get you killed at night on these roads. I have been trying to unload my old Toyota 4x4 pickup. It’s not pretty, but it runs like a top and will get you through a frog smothering blizzard. I’ll let you use it as long as you need to under one condition.”
“Wow. Thanks. I don’t know what to say. What would be the one condition?”
“You don’t name it after some stupid long hair hippie music.”
“Agreed. It will be the car with no name.” I had already quickly decided to call it Horse as homage to the classic rock song A Horse with No Name. I didn’t think Chuck was a fan of the band America, so I felt relatively safe.
“And there is even more. Geez, I’m beginning to feel like a frigging game show host. You do well with your courses and continue to do well here and I might make you Operations Manager which would include being a member of the Leadership team.”
“You mean The Circle?”
“Exactly. Along with that comes a small ownership stake in the business. If Woodland succeeds as I think it will, you will ride the up curve with us. Of course, if we go in the dumper, you get dumped on too.”
Wow. Even a minor ownership stake can be major if it is a small piece of a really big thing. And that would be excellent for the Mickster. I really believed in Chuck and Woodland. I won’t go into the technical details, but suffice it to say that we were getting close to launching a coating that could be used in micro electronics with negligible heat added and a coefficient of - oops, getting too technical. All I need to say is that X-400 would make us the mac daddies of the industry. Nobody could figure out how to make it, until now. We did and our pilot plant proved it. The process was very volatile. The slightest misstep might mean launching the company into orbit (physically and literally). Of course get it right, and the company would be launched into orbit (figuratively and financially).
“I don’t know what to say other than I am honored.”
“Working full time and going to school is going to be hard. But in the time I’ve known you, you never shied away from anything hard.”
While a multiple choice menu of snappy smart aleck replies began to download into my frontal lobes, I managed to choke them off before any of them came spewing across my vocal chords.
“Thanks. Charles. I will make you proud.”
“I know you will, Mick. And just one more thing.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Don’t ever beat me at golf. This is offer is revocable at my discretion.”
That Chuck, what a kidder. I think. Either way, I decided to work on making my slice even worse.
MBA - Moron$ Ba$ and A$ PG Version Page 14
