The big boss seemed to be exuding benevolence of the highest order as he looked at his staff members sitting across from him in the conference room. He often took pride in knowing each member of his office team by their first name and always listened to his views or problems in a very friendly manner. Recently, he initiated an office procedure to improve the overall quality of performance and operations. True to his nature, before implementing this procedure, he wanted to know how everyone felt about it. He wanted free and frank opinions as well as meaningful suggestions. So he called this particular meeting. Even though I was the latest addition to the team, I had to collect all the useful information about my new boss.
Again, true as ever to his nature, he never wanted it to be a predictable affair with members standing and speaking in monotonous serial order, one by one in a row. Instead, he decided who would speak at what time. He would randomly announce names and speak accordingly. Thus, in actual practice, it happened that one in the front row would give his or her opinion first, and someone in the back or middle row would be asked to speak next. The benevolent boss also asked his team members to be wary of repetitions: they should avoid points chosen by previous speakers.
Quite an unusual procedure for discussing office procedure, I reflected sitting in the front row and in direct eye contact with the big boss. Although I was ranked fairly high up in the office hierarchy, the responsibility of getting started did not naturally fall on me. It worked pretty well. Not knowing exactly when their turn to speak would come, people prepared their points faster, staying prepared and making adjustments to avoid repetition.
Tea and refreshments kept coming in rounds as the discussion continued without a time limit. It was important and therefore time shouldn’t be a factor, the boss announced at first. We happily wait our turns to see the tea, eat cakes and savor the sweets.
Suddenly, in the solemn and intense atmosphere, I heard a noise. I immediately deciphered it as a loud burp and quickly tried to focus on the rather unpleasant source of origin. I tracked it down to an older person who hadn’t spoken yet and was feasting on the gifts. At that point, however, his action concluded by depriving me of the intrinsic charms associated with burping. I always enjoyed those acts that inevitably involved a variety of expressions or contortions. Some would do it with their mouths full and opening loudly as if to savor each part; others twisted their parted lips to the left or right without trying to suppress the noise; someone would kill the noise and gently release the air with some movement of the neck, jaw and mouth, while most others, with fashion and etiquette, would always hide the action with the left or right palm involving the minimum of contortions facials.
I thought that the big boss would definitely react with irritation. However, nothing of the kind happened and he moved on. In fact, no one in the assembly showed any reaction.
And lo and behold! It happened again. Loud and clear. This time somewhere in a row behind me and I missed the action and the fountain completely. I only caught a glimpse of a lady across the line glancing sideways at the source who seemed to say, “God! Could this really be you…?”
The big boss also showed no emotion this time. And the process went smoothly.
We finally reached the end of the session. The big boss was satisfied and happy to get mainly what he expected to get. He poured himself the last round of tea. And then it happened.
In the very act of taking a sip from his cup of tea, the big boss had it. He somehow managed it with an uncomfortable frown, not managing to suppress the noise though. It was again a noisy burping act.
Quite compassionate, I smiled with satisfaction and great amusement.