Friday, October 21, 2005

At the Café du Soleil

The Café du Soleil has been painted, upstairs and down, but the same colour. The only difference is how bright it is. The cheeriness is at the same level. Olivier, the manager, greeted me literally with open arms and a three-cheek kiss.

I was there with a good friend and we were busy catching up on all our news. She is at a happy point in her life, which is wonderful to see. As we delved into our lives a voice behind me said, ‘You’ll never know who’ll you meet.’ It was a colleague back from my Neuchâtel working days. He claims I am responsible for his living here, which is based on some truth. He knocked at the office door and I did let him in and introduce him to the boss, who hired him. Now he is married with two kids, not the one he had when I went to his fortieth birthday which was a cruise in on a lake ship.

He told me he had seen our old boss the same day, one of the most compulsive people I have ever met. Working for him was a nightmare.

‘What’s he doing?’ I asked.

‘Executive coaching.’

I didn’t faint. That’s a little bit like having a person with no legs run a marathon. Granted the man was brilliant, but his nitpicking had totally demotivated a bright eager staff, although everyone who left admitted they learned a lot from him including never wanting to work for him again.

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