sagaciously is...

when they ask about me, tell 'em...I'm a hustla...

Lemme frame this for you real quick: I'm in a meeting at work, an admittedly bullshyt meeting about some company-sanctioned, company-favored charitable organization that we contribute money to every year, both as an organization, as well as on an individual level. We have annual meetings about this shyt, that no one looks forward to, to "re-emphasize our commitment" to this charity, before they begin to solicit funds. Blah...blah...blah. So. I'm sitting next to "semi-rebellious" manager SRM (just rebellious enough to f*ck up his own career, but not enough to create any major organizational changes). Two of my team-mates/colleagues are having this conversation behind me within earshot, while our Department Manager rambles on about why this organization deserves our attention. The speaker then shifts focus to a sub-titled visual presentation, that lacks audio. Both chatty-Kathy's miss alla this intro. Visual rolls, subtitles come on, and chatty-Kathy #1 loudly says something like "oh, I know we're not supposed to be reading those subtitles, are we?". And SRM gives me the gas face, as if to say "I know this peon is not talking over this. Had she been paying attention, she'd know enough to shut the f*ck up. Wait, let me make a mental note of this to f*ck up her career later..." And I mentally cringe in horror.

I've often thought that the corporate game isn't unlike any other game out there. Pimp game, drug game, numbers game, basketball, hockey, you name it. Frankly, it's all a hustle, and there are facets that they all share. A few:

know your environment:: If selling drugs was as easy as buying a kilo, divying it up and standing on the corner, we'd all do it. (ok not US all, but u knowwutImean) But it isn't; hence the police, other drug dealers, crackheads, drug-rollers, law-abiding citizens and the like. Given that, for the life of me I don't know why individuals walk into a corporate environment, and think they're gonna start the rebellion. Run shyt. Ni**a please - you're only the first knucklehead to have that thought this hour. Meanwhile, your competitors are scoping the landscape, learning the players, making connections, trying to figure out first how the environment works, and who's who in it.

slang-aside:: a "drug-roller" is someone (male or female) who, as an individual or part of a crew, cons then robs drug-dealers for a living. Mara used to do that too...

Back to the issue at hand, and this is just a thought, I know this sounds crazy, but hear me out: ya may want to familiarize yourself with that block, before you load your pockets up with raviloli bags, and start screaming that you've got that good power (you). Before you get deaded. I'm jes sayin'...

know your enemy:: When I started workin' for the good gub'ment (corporate) gig, some mess involving my new boss went down as soon as I walked in the door. At the time I wasn't privvy to all the details, so I lay low, and kept my ears open. Well, one of my coworkers, also working for this new boss, had already identified said boss as "the enemy", and revelled in the afore-mentioned mess. We disagreed about it once, loudly and with expletives inserted, since I thought that her assessment of him as "the enemy" was premature. She also compared said boss to SRM above, whom she found to be much easier to work for. Oh well.

Found out later, that said boss was "ridin' her (and the rest of us) hard", because he knew that some other bosses would find our job performance questionable, primarily because we're a) young b) gifted and c) black. He was trying to get us all to a level where our performance was beyond reproach. In some cases, his methods worked. In hers, it didn't, and she unwittingly earned a label as a 'non-descript' performer, that follows her to this day. Matter of fact, SRM confirmed that non-descript label, even as he was being 'nice' to her. She's clueless, despite attempts by several of her teammates (incl. myself) to give her a heads up about it. The whole thing has thrown a wrench in her career plans on several occasions.

Your enemy has a face, no doubt. It's your cubemate, your desk neighbor, it's the sista/brotha who's at the 'fight the diversity' power rallies 1X/year, but silently stabbing you in the back while they try to take your shine. I don't fret overmuch about Sméagol, since he's made his presence known, he's easily managed. It's the enemy that I don't see concerns me.

know your limits/strengths:: I violate my dress code. E.v.e.r.y. D.a.y. Open toed shoes, gauchos, sleeveless shirts, and the like. E.v.e.r.y. D.a.y. Oh, and let's not even talk about my non-corporate hair. That's right, I can acknowledge that even my hair pushes that dress code boundary. E.v.e.r.y. D.a.y. Matter of fact, sometimes I intentionally compound the violations, and then go talk to my HR rep or some other higher level manager, about ne-ole-thing, just to silently say "yeah, I know I'm violating. And?!"

They let it pass. I could think of a number of reasons, but here's the two most important: I work my a$$ off, and I'm incredibly professional. Almost to the point of being anal. I take my work ethic so seriously in fact, that I think there's a silent agreement that, we won't f*ck with saga & her fashion sense, and saga won't keep pushing those limits any further. I did once (wore a hat to work), which started so much shyt that I decided it wasn't a battle worth fighting for. But I could've. And I had a chance of winning. But it would've started a mini-war. And you definitely have to pick your battles. This dress code thing, it is truly minor. But it's also foolish to ride good employees over their pants length, and that's the point I was trying to make. Point (in fact) made.

when in doubt...stop. think. ask.::
Thug #1 pointing to random hustla on the come-up: yo, who's that new kid on the block?
Thug #2, shruggin: him? I don't know son. I think he's down with Poochie.
Thug #1: you think? or you know?
Thug #2: I dunno man...yo why you sweatin' him?
Thug #1: he's creepin on my customers yo - I ain't feelin' that! I'mma take that n*gga out...
Thug #2: c'mon man, he's wit Poochie man..it ain't even worth all that drama, for real...
Thug #1 then shoots random hustla....he'll ask Poochie lata

Ok, well Poochie actually shot him later. But you get the point right? Ok, given that, would he have looked more/less foolish if he'd have given ole Poochie a lil ring-a-ling? Maybe pondered a lil over his course of action?

Now, what kills me, is that I work with folks, multi-degreed, allegedly intelligent folks, 6-figure salary making folks, who won't just ask. Or stop and think. They'll fire off a volley of emails, schedule conference calls, get whole teams involved in issues that are really non-issues. Non-issues that would've been easily addressed with a single question. Maybe 5 minutes of meditation. * sighs *

protect ya neck. oh yeah, and your rep:: this is the lesson I found the hardest to handle on a personal level. See, my work ethic is impeachable, but my ability to toot my own horn isn't. I "don't need no steenkin' horn-tooter, maihne". I've got a work ethic. Period.

That is, until I got a knife in the side from a boss that I thought I had a decent relationship with. But she didn't stab me while I was lookin'. No, she stabbed me while I was sleepin. She questioned my performance to someone else, and never told me about it. Planted the seed, tried to let it grow, without my knowledge. And not only did I not see it coming, I didn't feel it either. Until someone pulled the knife out a couple of weeks later, but (some) damage had already been done. I learned, the hard way, that your rep is almost more important than making sure you're doing the do. Your rep proceeds you, and can protect you when shyt gets proverbially thyck. And it always gets thyck. My homeboys on the street know this, and would hurt someone for tarnishing their rep.

Yeah, I know how to CYA/CMA (cover yo/my ass), and I work like a Hebrew slave for my own personal satisfaction. Sometimes that isn't enough. Protecting ya rep is the underlying current that will fuel your career, as you sail along your career path. Steering is crucial, but you won't go anywhere without the current.

I need a soldier...: My first love (albeit puppy love) was named Tink. Tink & I parted ways years ago, but when I was in college, Tink and some of his boys got jobs working for a telemarketing company. At the time, none of us knew much about telemarketing. And me and my friends were broke college students. However, what we could see was that a) Tink and Co. suddenly started pushing luxury vehicles b) Tink and Co. started wearing expensive suits. Vintage-looking suits (think Chicago-house music meets 1940's gangsters) and c) Tink and Co. all engaged in some cash-intensive yet lucrative sidelines (real-estate investing, party promotions, etc.) So when Tink and Co. were implicated in some fraud allegations, and money laundering schemes, etc. none of us were surprised.

But what did surprise me was that Tink and Co. managed to avoid federal charges. Matter of fact, for the most part Tink and Co. got relatively light/non-existent sentences. And managed to hold on to some of those lucrative sidelines. Collectively. Some of Tink and Co. still have those businesses today. Why? They had a network that they trusted. Tink and Co. (to a degree) were some ride or die n*ggaz, and none of them turned on the other. They held tight, and didn't allow the fear of catching a case interfere with their goal: for all of them to remain free. Any of them could easily have turned on the lot, but they didn't, and I (despite the questionable legality of their endeavors) can respect that.

We all need a soldier. I work with quite a few folks I trust and I appreciate them for that. Common goals and all. Don't get it twisted, we ain't "fallin on the sword" for each other, and I ain't catchin' a case for anyone (I've got babies to feed...) but that unspoken agreement is there.

theProduct:: do any of us really believe in the shyt we sell? Crack. Overpriced clothing. Luxury cars. The idea that the playing field is level. Dreams. A corporate culture that at once opresses us and keeps our pockets swole.

Hell no. Sierra Mist has it over 7Up and Sprite, no matter how many lemons and limes are involved in head-on collisions, and no matter what Miles Thirst says. But Sprite doesn't need to believe, they just need y'all to believe.

theGame::So back to chatty-Kathy. She's older than me, been working here longer, and (technically speakin') higher level than me. But she doesn't get it. Should I hip her to the game?