Corporate Whore

The first week of an internship (the first week of proper* work, as opposed to training) is always a joyous occasion. The undergraduate interns attempt to size each other up and out-drink each other at company sponsored events. The MBA interns also size each other up, however, they are slightly more refined in their alcohol consumption.

Fortunately, I was in-between projects last week and was able to enjoy the festivities in full. Enter Buxom Brunette Becky. The Buxom Brunette bore more than a striking resemblance to the naughty school girls seen on the X-rated channels available to road warriors in all good hotel establishments. I entered the reserved area of the establishment and wasted no time in introducing myself. The Buxom Brunette was a Economics graduate at Oxbridge but hated her degree and had plans on setting up a number of computer centres in West Africa. I asked her what attracted her to the big bad world of strategy consulting. I imagined her looking me in the eyes, then softly whispering “I know who you are, I read your blog all the time. You’re a bad motherf*cker and I applied to meet you in flesh and do me in a client office”. I awoke from my daze to catch the remnants of what sounded like the bullshit answers we all give when being asked “why strategy consulting”. I think I heard her mention using learning and using her improved knowledge to help organisational challenges. I chuckled silently.

It must not have been as silent as I had hoped because she asked me why I was laughing. I responded by telling her that I’d heard a 100 versions of the answer she had just given. I then challenged her to give the real reason for choosing strategy. Instead of backing down or reaffirming her commitment to consulting (as I expected), she paused and said “well, I’ve heard you consultants don’t do much. It seems to be a load of PowerPoint, plagiarism of business models and inventing fanciful names to cover exorbitant expense accounts. Yet, you seem to earn a fair sum for your efforts and the exit opportunities aren’t so bad. I wanted to steer clear of the banking and finance nerds, so I thought I’d check out this gig you’ve got going on.”
I was smitten. Her response lit a fire inside me. I knew I had to develop a carnal knowledge of the Buxom Brunette. I ignored the other interns for the rest of the evening and focused on presenting myself in a positive light to her.

As fate would have it, she didn’t live too far from me (well, we’re approximately 8 miles apart at opposing ends of London, but that wasn’t the time for semantics) and we shared a cab. Being the gentleman that I am, I insisted that she be dropped off first, to ensure her safety and such. HA! When we arrived at her place, I decided to try my luck and invited myself round for a nightcap. Surprisingly, she accepted without argument.

As for the rest of the evening, well, a gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell, but I assure you I received a lot of knowledge from the Buxom Brunette.

* As proper as it can be for a consultant