Corporate Whore

The Corporate Whore is still alive; however, a change of moniker is in order!

The following is a post I begun, meaning to chronicle Summer 2008. A series of fortunate and not so fortunate events meant that I was unable to continue with the update, until now. I conclude the post with a summary of what has happened since the post was written.

“
A series of very fortunate events … Introducing Horny Harriet

Summer ‘08 shall be chronicled as a three part series.

The third week of the summer intern hunt began as innocuously as any other week. There were presentation sessions organised for a few of the interns, this was followed by a mid-week networking session (read: Intern piss-up) and the usual Friday drinks; it had been a fairly mundane week.

Being the affable and easy-going chap that I am, I decided to get to know a few of the interns and offer my unique insight into the world of strategy consulting (and perform full reconnaissance on the female interns without being too conspicuous). I was introduced to an intern who I’ll call Horny Harriet. From the outset she (Horny Harriet) appeared to be the typical intern hired by our firm, she studied at a prestigious university, had been the captain, president and chair of various clubs and societies, on top of some amazing charitable work. I didn’t spend an excessive amount of time with her as I had a mission to complete. I was introduced to and had conversations with the majority of interns. I had previously ruled out any advances that could have occurred, as I was on a purely recon mission and devise my plan of attack during the next week.

As I was preparing my exit, Horny Harriet approached me and we struck up a conversation. From the outset I could tell where this conversation was headed. She began by asking me what was the worst thing an employee had done to get fired (well, these people haven’t been fired yet, so it can’t be so bad) and whether I had some close to any these offences. I gave a knowing smile and replied that I’m generally a good boy. She chuckled then said “It’s good to hear that you’re a good boy, especially when the client is footing the bill. Good boys seem to be the norm at uni but sometimes a girl just wants the experience of something that deviates from that norm”. From then on it was game on, I knew score. We arranged to leave separately, she would make her excuses and I would follow her 20 minutes later.

I arrived at her flat and we were at it almost immediately. With large quantities of alcohol coursing through our veins, we skipped the niceties and banter that is so often de rigueur with first night relations. We were approaching the big dance when she paused and whispered to me “Would you like to someone else to be involved, another girl?” I tried to maintain a semblance of calm, however, I can imagine that I didn’t succeed as she began to laugh. My reaction must have been enough for her as she began to make a few calls. She made approximately eight calls with none of them bearing fruit. “Oh well, I guess it wasn’t meant to be” she said. I wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass me by. I, like most men (I assume), like to believe we think with our minds and not our sexual devices. At this point, I’d like to think it was a combination of the alcohol and the possibility of a ménage a trois that led me to suggest HR Beauty as a possible partner. Far from being wary at the prospect of an unknown entering the equation, she was jubilant. I called HR Beauty - she had been out with friends and was also highly intoxicated - and invited her to join me at a party. To cut a long story short, HR Beauty was initially shocked, but ultimately agreed to the proposal. Conversing with Horny Harriet was certainly the best investment I had made in a long time!
“

• HR Beauty gabbled like a goose to a few of her HR friends about the events of that night, omitting her activities and wildly exaggerating mine.
• Word soon spread like wildfire. The once spotless Corporate Whore and been thrown into a tar pit.
• Around this time, I was fortunate enough to work on a project where I had the chance to meet a number of prominent Arabian financiers.
• I managed to sufficiently impress and was offered a job.
• I accepted and handed in my notice the next day.
• Within 48 hours, I was on a flight to one of the GCC states.
• I spent my garden leave making the necessary preparations.
• I began my new role early in the autumn.

Legitimate questions I’ve asked myself over the past 2 months.

Why does Paul (senior consultant) take a 12 minute break roughly the same time as Suzie (the admin assistant for this floor) disappear?

Why do I feel a sense of helplessness at approximately 10pm when I know I’ll be on site for at least another 3 hours and it’s been the same routine for the past 10 days?

Why are all projects like this? Is it not possible to manage time slightly better at the beginning to prevent these mad hours?

Are these hours are making me earn less than the cleaner in the meeting room across the corridor?

If I went to the top of the building with my (annoying) colleague, and pushed him off, would I be lauded for having done the right thing?

How many slides does it take to say that the client needs to diversify into emerging markets, leveraging their partnerships with firms in those markets?

When will I get the chance to “explore” HR Beauty in the senior partners office?

If I sit really still and not say anything if asked a question, will people think I’m invisible? [This was towards the tail-end of an 80+ hour week, my mind was, well, in a place of it's own]

I wonder if you can beat a CFO to death with a 5 sheets of paper which have spreadsheet figures printed on them.

At what point will I stop caring about how Porter’s doesn’t apply in this case and want to shoot myself? [At approx 21.27 on day 2 of the engagement]

Can I expense 100 tins of tuna and get away with it? [Ultimately, yes!]

Do you have any advice for me, I’ll be taking the McKinsey online test in [time frame]

This question is usually preceded by, “Great blog”, “hilarious stuff” or a similar derivative.
Some readers have suggested that some of the language used on the blog indicates that I’m a McKinsey employee. I’d rather not answer either way. Owing to some of the stories posted, my anonymity is crucial. Not only for my sake, but also for those who are featured in a few of the blog entries.

The only advice I can give (and this should not be taken as indicating that I am a McKinsey employee as I sat a number of tests for a few strategy firms) is the test is not as difficult as you would imagine. If you have a 1st or even a 2:1 from any numerate degree, you’ll do well.

Do you have any sample Mckinsey PST’s?

In a word … no.

Do you work for [firm name]? Some of the stories sound very familiar.

See answer to Q1. These stories sound familiar because people are everywhere. I’m guessing you also work in a (relatively) stressful environment with amazingly intelligent people, over-achievers and A-grade go-getters. A few people that I’ve spoken to about my experiences were not surprised. It would seem that the environment we work in is conducive to a certain type of behaviour in various individuals.

Are you male/female?

I don’t understand why I get asked this question. One person asking can (I assume) be reasoned. However, when I get over 20 e-mails that question my gender, I become somewhat perturbed. I would have thought reading through posts of HR Beauty and my general tone it would have been clear?! I guess not.
Note to self: You’re a consultant, you don’t make things very clear when you’re being paid, why should that change on a blog?

Why don’t you talk about relevant consulting issues?

There are many, many, many blogs that discuss consulting/business issues. I do not wish this blog to be in that band.
Kudos to the blogs that discuss issues less frivolous than superiors emptying the contents of their nasal passages or dissecting the actions of drunken colleagues at Christmas themed functions. Those blogs do a great job, probably better than I could do. However, I write for those people that wish to unwind after spending 10+ hours in the office/client site. I know I’d prefer to read a humorous story that I could relate to than an analysis of another case study.
Unless of course you prefer to unwind by analysing case studies, each to their own.

If you have any additional questions, I can be contacted @ corporate.prostitute@hotmail.com

The Corporate Whore blog is currently on hiatus.
80+ hour weeks are not common, but not unheard of; when they arrive, you begin to curse pretty much everything.

Updates scheduled for 2nd or 3rd week in April.

The Evil Crackberry

I know my days are numbered when:

• I see a dear old lady on the tube playing with her Blackberry and smiling merrily.

• The majority of 2nd year analysts and a significant number of 1st year analysts own one. I’m now in the minority.

• My desire to have a new “toy” increases ever so slightly.

• My manager has insisted I order one next year.

You know you’ve passed the point of no return as a corporate whore when you can go 31 days without spending a penny of your own money. I (un)happily passed this milestone at midnight on the 1st November 2007. A combination of late nights, weekend working and me taking the piss made it possible.

The following are a few of the items expensed last month:

• Suit, shirt, tie and shoes.
  Justification: Baggage did not arrive with flight. I would have been late for project sign-off meeting with client.

• 19″ monitor.
  Justification: Strain on eyes. (I’m chummy with the Health and Safety ladies, so they put pressure on my manager to get this approved)

• McDonalds meal. I was pissed at leaving the office on the Saturday evening (10pm) and getting a phone call at 10.27pm informing I would be needed in the office on Sunday morning. I thought “fuck it”. Called some friends who I knew couldn’t turn down free food (student mentality lives on 3 years post-graduation!). Ordered close to 15 different meals/items. Well over £50, not much, but this is McDonalds! I was daring my manager to say anything when the expense report was submitted. Nothing was said. McDonalds doesn’t make up for a ruined weekend, however, knowing I helped a few mates in any way I could sort of makes me feel better.
  Justification: I was hungry.

• iPod touch.
  Justification: Used in analysis of how [the client] can exploit available technologies in order to offer an improved service to their customers.

• Business class flight to Geneva.
  Justification: Urgent meeting with IT Director at Geneva location. (The IT Director is based in Central London!)

Should I feel bad? To be honest, I really don’t care. As long as my expenses keep getting approved, I’ll seek to maximise my utility.

During the final year of my higher education, I was given two key pieces of advice that I intended to abide by forever. The first was to never have a sexual relationship with anybody that works for the same firm in the same country as myself. The second was to never own a blackberry.

I’m tempted on a regular basis to dismiss the first piece of advice. Friday’s in the office and Friday drinks are edging away at my resolve. I haven’t cracked yet and if I can make it past the numerous Christmas parties and themed events, I should be OK.

Over the past 18 months, I’ve concocted a number of excuses for not owning a crackberry; however, my excuses are running out fast. I was in conversation with a senior manager this week and he explained to me the delights of his “zippy little machine”. When I confessed I was not an owner he became very concerned and proceeded to demonstrate the full functionality of his device (increasing my day by almost 2 hours, wanker).

I’m well aware of the features and have ceased to be impressed. It’s the side effects of ownership that I’m wary of.
Everybody I know that owns this evil device (straight from the depths of hell) cannot fathom leaving the house without it, even on weekends and after work. I witnessed the worst case of crackberry addition when I recently met up with a friend I hadn’t seen in a few years. He checked his blackberry at least once every 40 seconds or so. This guy had recently started with a law firm. Less than 6 months removed from university and he had already developed a nervous twitch.

I attended the recent NBA game in London with a die-hard basketball fan who had bought tickets within the hour they were available on Ticketmaster. He checked his device every 90 seconds or so, missing key baskets and plays. He became so frustrated that he ordered me to take it from him. Being the kind soul that I am, knowing his inner being was being torn in two, not only did I take it from him, I “accidentally” dropped it and stepped on it, cracking the screen and disabling it from use. When I returned it to him at the end of the game, I was expecting him to lose it. He gave me a knowing look, shrugged his shoulders and said “I guess I needed it”. I later found out he had acquired a new device the very next day.

Every time the device is thrust into my direction with the suggestion I order one, I politely refuse and attempt to divert the discussion. I fear my days of polite refusal are coming to an end and I will soon enter the world of addiction to an electronic device that is the spawn of Satan. God help me.

There are a number of my fellow whores who find the prospect of lunch with the ultimate pimp (a partner in the firm) terrifying. There are others who relish this opportunity to try and impress the pimp with their ungodly behaviour (brown-nosers and their ilk). Then there are those like myself who can see through the smoke and will use the opportunity to gain further understanding into the inner pimp circle and how to maximise the benefits of being a corporate whore, whilst actually keeping my legs closed.

I ensured I was neither the first nor the last arrive for lunch. I didn’t want to appear too eager by arriving early (thus having to make small talk with said pimp) or too late and look like an unorganised slacker.

I arrived to the brown nosers attempting to curry favour in the eyes of the partner. I began to get irritated after a few minutes of their thinly veiled narcissism; mistake number one. Partners at my corporate pimp house are (for the most part) more highly paid, self-indulgent versions of the brown nosers. So why the brown nosers thought the partners would enjoy hearing about their work/lives is beyond me.

I decided now was an appropriate moment to move in, I asked everyone at the table “We have roughly clearly defined roles and know how we fit within a project, but how do you all believe you add that something special to your projects?” Silence. After a brief pause the brown nosers began reeling off the extra hours they work (as if we all don’t!). The pimp looked squarely at me and said, “And how do you add extra value?” I responded with “I do what I’m told. When I’m finished, I take a step back and take a holistic view of the project and identify areas that we can increase delivery to the client whilst minimising cost to the firm“. A smile began to curl from his lips and the others watched me with envy. I guess it didn’t really matter whether I actually do the things I said I do, but knowing the correct thing to say would be enough.

At the end of the lunch as we were thanking the partner for his time (and for a free lunch) and we began to make our way back to the office, he pulled me aside, gave me his card, saying, “Mail me on Monday.“
Phase one complete!

“That’s the trouble with corporate bullshit. You find youself speaking it without even realising you’re sounding like an idiot.“

The following is a real conversation that took place between yours truly and a friend, not long after my first anniversary as a lady man of the night, day and the crazy hours between 5am - 6.30am.

“
Michael: Why do you want projects in the energy sector?

Corporate Whore: I’m not planning on staying with [my firm] for longer than 5 years. I’m hoping to leverage the skills I gain from projects in the energy sector to land myself a job with a supermajor. After 18 months or so, my aim is to make a lateral into the renewable energy division.

Michael: Uhh (pause) Could you repeat that please.
“

That’s when it dawned on me that I had become a blood vessel in the body of The Corporation.

Prostitute or Consultant

 

• “People ask you what you do and you can’t explain it.”

Sure I can. I advise clients in what they need to do to make their business better (however the client has defined
better). I stick around for some parts of the implementation. If (when) the project starts sinking, I jump ship before the
client realises the damage I have caused. I can then proclaim this as another successful project.

There are a lot of things that go on in-between, but that’s the gist of things.

• “Your client pays for your hotel room plus your hourly rate.”

And a host of other things that are necessary.

 

I’d say I was both. A prostitute dressed up as a consultant. But I guess that’s clear from the title of the blog.