How to know if you’re destined for upper management.

Today was the holiday luncheon at Globotron. I sat at my table of lowly contractors, and we enjoyed free lunch. It tasted free. But, again, it was free.

CEO-types tend to fancy themselves to be “people people,” and Globotron’s CEO is no different. He deigned to sit with us unclean contractors and work the room.

He was a nice enough fellow. But I think he’s a cyborg.

See, the luncheon made up for the free food with excellent party favors. Every place setting had a little box of Godiva chocolates. You know, those square boxes of 4 chocolates? Yeah. Class touch, Globotron. I approve.

After we were done eating, Cyborg CEO picked up his box of Godiva. “You know, I’ve never had a Godiva chocolate,” he said. “I buy them for my wife all the time, but I’ve never tried them.”

At this point, he should have made some comment about the joy of trying something new. But no.

Cyborg CEO tossed his box of chocolates to the guy sitting next to him. “Here,” he said. “You have ’em.”

And then I died.

Why, oh why wouldn’t you try the chocolates? You don’t even know what you’re missing!

But the obvious “chocolate good!” grunts aside … I immediately thought that Cyborg CEO must never sing in the car or try weird foods or do anything silly. And it made me sad for him.

And then I resumed my Bitter Corporate Denizen persona and decided that you simply cannot be senior management in Corporate America unless you are flat-out insane.

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