Money For Nothing Read online



  Money For Nothing

  Dom Price

  For all those that have helped and supported, especially Mel, Steph, Jen as well as family & friends.

  Copyright 2010 Dom Price

  ***

  Chapter First Bit Bites

  ***

  “Good Morning Mr Marsdon." Talking to yourself is a sign of madness to many, but to Dave it was a necessity. It was 7am and he had to get the show on the road.

  You know, it’s not easy being successful. Not only is it extremely addictive, but as Dave Marsdon knew, it was fraught with pitfalls. Whilst many were lucky to navigate these hurdles, Dave didn’t attribute any of his success to mere luck. Luck was for people who weren’t as clever as him.

  Laying in bed on a crisp London morning, Dave was smug with his achievements, but knew that he had no time to reflect. The post-it note on the dresser reminded him, along with the other motivational notes he left for himself around the flat that “reflection rationalises failures...don’t fail”.

  Dave was an immensely intelligent man, even by his own very high standards. Where others saw reason to celebrate, Dave saw another victory on his journey to be successful. Driven wasn’t the word, but Dave was certainly gifted, and boy did he know it. For Dave, settling for 2nd best wasn’t an option and there was nothing positive to glean from just being in the race. Dave had once told a runner up in an innovation competition that, “You didn’t just have to be in it to win in...you had to be the best to win it.” The focus with which he consumed the opportunities that were presented showed his tenacity and unquivering desire to be the very best, a target which he neared with every step of his esteemed life.

  Striding into his palatial en-suite, a sneaky grin encapsulated his face as he saw another of his post-it notes. Chuckling to himself, he grabbed it, re-read it and dropped it in the wicker bin. Some things were so obvious and pure common-sense that you didn’t need reminding of them. Entering the shower, Dave muttered to himself and giggled at the same time.

  “The secret of success is to know something nobody else knows.”

  Turning on the shower and looking himself square in the mirror, it was time for some re-assurance.

  “Well that makes me very successful then”, Dave delivered confidently into the admiring mirror. He’d realised over recent years that one of the side effects of being so successful, is that you attract jealousy like a fresh candle attracts a moth on a summers night. And Dave knew that jealous people didn’t like to compliment those that were better than them. It was for that reason that Dave had elected to take one of his own motivational ideas, and put it into practice. On a wet Saturday in March, he’d carefully completed a selection of post-it notes, half of which contained aspirational comments to help keep his mind focused. Reviewing his stubble and realising that game-day required a clean shave; Dave looked at one of the post-it notes that made up the rest of the motivational quota. Dave had always said that one of the weaknesses of some of his peers and competitors in the business world, was their sole focus is on always looking up. Dave knew better, and the perfect pick-me-up for a dedicated business man like himself, was to be reminded of previous successes. So Dave had written the other half of the post-it notes with refreshers that were his pat on the back and reminder of the brilliance that he’d achieved to date and the inspiration for him to continue with his journey in the game. The kind of stuff that jealous people won’t say.

  “Exceeded my parent’s gross income by the time I was 25.”

  Underneath the bold pen was an edit that Dave had added as an afterthought that demonstrated to himself, his divine ability to propel himself to levels of success that many can’t even dream off.

  “Doubled it by 26.”

  Dave loved his parents, Derek and Jane, and never thought lowly of them. He credited them with an amazing up-bringing and thanked them regularly for how well they’d raised him and his twin sister Anne. His note wasn’t a comparison and it wasn’t a dig. The notes though were factual, and Dave wasn’t one to hide away from a fact, especially one which reinforced his ambition to be bigger, better, faster and just more successful, than everyone else.

  Dave was part way through his morning routine, when he selected the usual track from his vast music collection and immersed himself in something other than business. Striding with the combined confidence of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Sammy Davis Jnr, Dave mumbled and sang select words with his rendition of some Rat Pack classics, which this morning meant “Mr. Success!”

  It was important to take advantage of these rare moments of downtime, which weren’t frequently afforded to someone who didn’t like to take his eye off the game. Being the best took dedication, but with presentations following an early morning coffee with his PA, Dave knew that he needed the super-hero outfit to compliment the sharp tongue and cutting knowledge to deliver the consummate message of “WOW” today. His fingers moved like a conductor as he sized the pristine selection of pin striped suits, one of which would be perfectly finished off with a crisp pink pastel shirt and matching tie and cuff links, that when all put together would enable him to execute the required look. A look that shot fear into his peers, as it provided Dave with the essential super hero mask and conveyed an uninterrupted view of accomplishments, drive, ambition, knowledge and power, without a single crease to show any weaknesses. Dave was a personification of doing things right.

  The conductor’s fingers quickly changed pace as Dave admired the finished article in the full length bedroom mirror as he finished his macchiato. He quickly gave himself both guns a blazing in the mirror. “pow pow pow” was swiftly followed by an acknowledging wink. He felt like a tribute to Michael Douglas in Wall Street, but with more panache, after all, he was the real deal.

  Dave was built for these times, engineered for this environment and had developed in such a way that he oozed confidence like a distance runner oozes sweat. Dave’s running track was the boardrooms of London’s elite blue chip companies and his pace was in his seamless delivery of honed messages that evoked dreams of success in the heads of the senior executives that warmed the plush leather chairs of these boardrooms. Darwin would be proud if he could see how evolution had chiselled Dave.

  With his focus still in the mirror, Dave’s eyes wandered to the one part of his life which he didn’t measure, gloat about or shower with the word success. The bed had all the attributes of an expensive and luxury setting, and it was complimented by all the other stylish finishes in the flat. And as things stood, Dave knew it served its primary purpose, as a device to house him during his hours of much needed slumber. But in that moment, he was reminded of the compromise that he’d made but wouldn’t admit to. With such a sheen and polished exterior, coupled with his abundance of joy he experienced in every challenge he attempted, his family, colleagues and associates were right to make the assumptions that they all unilaterally made.

  Like all super heroes, there was a truth behind the mask.

  ***

  Chapter Behind The Mask

  ***

  “Laura, I’m in the car and I’m on my way in. What have we got on today?”

  Some would call them toys, but Dave invested in necessary devices that aided his life. One such device was his wireless blue tooth set and speaker system.

  “Who is this?” The voice was blurry and confused.

  “I am your boss Laura, and I’m asking you what we’ve got on today.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Laura, I’ll repeat myself again. I’m your boss, not your watch. However to save time and expedite the conversation onto something productive, it is 6.23am. I’d give you a weather report but it’s quite insignificant.”

  “6.23am. I like to try and help wher
e I can sir, but it is quite early, and I haven’t got your diary up on screen yet, mainly because I’m still in bed.”

  “Laura, I’ll give you a free lesson while you fire your computer up, but you first need to answer a quiz question. Other than silicone, what have Sheena Easton and Dolly Parton got in common?” Laura hurriedly reached under the bed for her laptop. Dave had insisted that she keep it available at all times.

  “I’m not sure Mr Marsdon. Erm, they are both American?”

  “Think more laterally Laura. Think pop quiz.”

  “Oh, I’ve got it.” Laura was slowly waking up now and her brain was in gear. She started singing in a shocking attempt to parody Dolly Parton. “Working 9 to 5, what a way to make a livin’.”

  “Exactly. And therein lies your free lesson for the day. Women sing about working 9 to 5 because they only have jobs. Laura, we have careers, and careers don’t fit nicely into a box. If you merely want a dull, safe, existence of averages, then go get yourself a job. Working for me though, you have a career, and right now, if you can’t tell me what I’ve got on for the day, that career might be in jeopardy.“

  Laura’s machine came to light in the nick of time, and she intuitively loaded Dave’s diary. The ironic part was that Dave had more technology toys than her and obviously had access to his own diary. But this wasn’t about information. It was about power.

  “Well Sir, you’ve got a management meeting upstairs this morning, I’ve blocked you out some free time before and after lunch to catch up on those reports and then you’ve got an internal training session this afternoon with the people from Learning and Development.”

  “A what? What do I still need to learn? Unless they have access to senior executives at large companies with bucket loads of cash to spend, I suspect that they have nothing to teach me. Bloody waste of time.”

  “Actually sir, it looks quite interesting. The session is for all the senior people here at CEC Services and it’s about EQ.”

  “Laura, it is early, dark, raining and I’m trying to navigate London traffic. What the hell is EQ when it’s at home and who sent the invite?”

  “According to the brief they’ve sent through, it’s about your emotional intelligence or emotional quotient as it says here. Like IQ, but for emotions. It kinda goes on to explain that you need to be emotionally smart to be able to empathise and understand your motivations and the motivations of others. Quite clever really. And it’s from Rosemary in Learning & Development. Apparently she is a fully qualified occupational psychologist.”

  “Yeah, I bet she’s never been at the coal face though. Those who can, do, those who can’t, teach. Laura, do you have one of my business cards there? Can you just read it out for me? Nice and slow, and loud too. Cheers.”

  “Ermmm OK sir. David Marsdon BA, MBA (Distinction). CEC Services. Director Business Transformation Consulting. 141 Willow Place...”

  “That is enough Laura. You see I’m a business man, not a friggin’ social worker. I need sales, not tears. I’m a solver of organisations problems, not a shoulder to cry on. I make issues go away, so that I don’t need to understand them. And I certainly don’t need to chat about them. They are gone. That course isn’t for me. Accept the invite and you can go in my place. You girls love your emotions. Just be careful they don’t try to sign you up to any feminist cults. Next thing you’ll be telling me you need an appraisal! I need you focused as we hone in on this push for promotion. I need you in my team.”

  “Why wouldn’t I have an appraisal Sir?”

  “Oh you do cheer me up sometimes Laura. Appraisal? Ha. Why would you need one of those? No-one works for you, you are part of the over heads and most importantly, if you weren’t doing your job I would have sacked you by now.”

  Dave flicked a switch and the call was ended. Without touching another button, the music gently increased in volume and the day had commenced, though his mind wondered back to his empty bedroom.

  When Dave had embarked on the journey and started his game, he knew there would be sacrifices he’d have to make on the way as he prioritised his success. There had been a few birthdays where the cards had arrived late and a few family functions which had clashed with business trips or important conferences, but he’d always made up for it with a good bottle of wine for his dad Derek, and some well timed flowers for his mum, Jane.

  Checking his tie and cufflinks in the rear view mirror and trying to snap himself into the zone, Dave knew that his secret was safe and that he could continue to wear the mask of success in every part of his life, even those areas where he was arguably not even taking part.

  Dave wasn’t accustomed to admitting failures or weaknesses, so this particular indiscretion had been put down to timing. It wasn’t that he didn’t have the ability, but with all the other competing demands on his time and the need to focus, he just hadn’t got around to it and frankly just didn’t have the time. That said, Dave was glad at the assumptions that his colleagues made, and was happy to go along with the banter around the water cooler.

  “I’m sure that your presentation at the Sales Conference had the women queuing up at your hotel room door” quipped one of the guys from CEC Services, the company where Dave was a Director.

  “Ah you know, what goes on tour...” replied Dave in his usual sharp, but non-committal fashion.

  The gaggle of men around the water cooler all hackled and knowingly looked at each other with the mystery of a horoscope and the maturity of teenagers.

  Dave was just relieved that his tactical answer had avoided a lie whilst not telling the truth. He was sure the laughter would be raucous and continual if they’d known that he’d spent that night reviewing his appraisal forms and realigning his goals to the company’s new strategy. But he walked away with his head held high, as it was him that was closer to the promotion than any of them, and a good few years their junior too.

  Sitting in his luxury German inspired vehicle, Dave was relieved at his investment in heated seats in this top of the range, limited edition model. It was a definite requirement on these cold London mornings as he continued the slow drive into his city centre office. Alone in the car, it was hard for Dave to shed the thoughts that had wandered aimlessly through his head a few minutes before as he swapped his stare from the mirror to the bed. He didn’t like having monkeys on his back. Flicking down the visor to block the early morning sunrise, Dave saw the last of his notes, which reminded him that “knowledge is power”.

  Living by the mantra of ‘knowledge is power’ satisfied Dave that it was OK that he was aware of his frailties, as long as they remained a secret. Should this information be in the hands of his arch rivals and peers, then the power would definitely shift and cause major embarrassment. Anyway, he knew that this wasn’t a real frailty, but a decision and sacrifice that he’d made in the trade off that is life. Just like everything else in his life, surely he’d be able to excel at it, if he really wanted to.

  ***

  Chapter Knowledge, Power and Embarrassment

  ***

  As a highly motivated and focused 27 year old, Dave hadn’t experienced much in the way of failures, and didn’t really have much comprehension for the emotion of embarrassment in his adult life. His life contained plans, targets and goals that meant that failure and embarrassment were eliminated.

  Dave dedication to ‘knowledge is power’ manifested itself in his attendance at a very enlightening “Success in Business; both contain U” conference in 2001 having attended the highly successful “There is no I in team, but there is a U in Business” conference in 2000. Whilst Dave had spent much of the seminar silently gloating to himself about how much of the material was mere commonsense to someone as naturally gifted as himself, there was a session which really struck a chord. The summation by the lead speaker, focused on how the human mind dealt very well with things that were in threes.

  “Just listen to how people recite numbers, such as phone numbers.” The guest speaker was talking at the
sleepy suited crowd.

  Dave’s ears had immediately pricked up, thinking of how he’d leave a meeting with the wanton client visually gasping for more, and being left with the “it’s 070 705 215 if you have any questions”. So maybe this guy had something? Three examples later, and Dave was sold. The session had been well worth the €500 that he’d charged his company for it.

  “Ah, its only expenses…they get more than their fair pound of flesh from me”, not needing to calculate the return on investment for such genuine pearls of wisdom. Dave knew that to continue to maintain the advantage that ‘knowledge is power’ gave him that he had to maintain his intellectual intake on a regular basis. This lead speaker had just given Dave an edge and a secret potion that would be sure to unsettle his competition.

  So since that day, Dave’s decision making processes, conversations and life, basically revolved around the number three. If something came to four, then one had to be lost or consolidated. From now on, to be more successful, it was 3 or nothing.

  As a creature of planning for success, Dave even had an evening routine which had been penned as a “Nightly Option List”. Up until the conference, Dave’s routine had actually been one of two things, but he’d rectified that and added a third option so that it complied with the ‘Rule of 3’.

  The new option, aptly named ‘Option 1’ was “complete relaxation and submersion in nothing”. In fact, Dave never confessed to anyone, but this really wasn’t an option for him at all, and statistically, it was the least frequented of his options.

  The most regular evening activity and ‘Option 2’ related closely to Dave’s career, as the discrepancy between working hours and social hours was blurred by a corporate function for the firm he worked with, CEC Services, a partnership of management consultants. Dave was the youngest Director in the history of CEC, where he’d fast tracked through the ranks at quite a pace and he was respected and revered by many of his colleagues. But whether they liked him or not, they certainly acknowledged his prowess as he glided effortlessly and casually around corporate hobb nobbing functions, with the glamour of James Bond, the wisdom of Yoda combined with the business charm and charisma of Richard Branson. Some called it networking, but Dave was in his element, doing what he called ‘business flirting’.