Hangover in Heathrow
Great things often start weird.
Everything is going to be great in the end. If it’s not great, it’s not the end.
Headoffice
“You son of a b****!” it booms out the imposing wooden door.
“Obviously someone’s picking up a mighty enema right now!” Frank interprets the situation.
He’s next in line in front of the lion’s den. “This is going to be fun!… “
Frank still doesn’t know the reason for his trip to the company headquarters in Dallas, Texas. “Important Project” and “Top Secret” were the sparse hints to justify his travel booking.
Now he sits here alone and clueless at the door of the ‘Senior Vice President of Information Technology’. Adrenaline pumps through his veins and feeds an ever increasing cycle. He feels the beating of his heart as a throbbing in his head. With sweaty hands, Frank wonders what the hell he’s doing here. Is it because of his last project?
“Yes, OK, the cost was a little over budget, but there were circumstances that explain it… “ he puts the words together. “Everything else looked ‘pretty good at first sight’. Did Jim notice anything I missed? Is that the consequence for me preferring a quick delivery to a deeper analysis at the time? “
The door opens and reality penetrates into Frank’s consciousness. A colleague with a frozen face sneaks past him. Frank doesn’t know him personally. The fragments that made it through the door were enough to fuel Frank’s fantasy. He can vividly imagine what might have happened behind the door. For Frank this is enough to sense a brother in suffering in the unknown colleague.
“Come on!”
The impatient military sound waves drive Frank into the room against his will. He enters the kingdom of Big Jim. The walls are densely covered with pictures of fast cars. The sideboard is garnished with a baseball bat.
“Where’s the connection?”
“Come on. Take a seat. Sit down!”
Frank sweats even more.
“Does Jim notice the trembling? Or is it all just imagination because of my overdose of adrenaline? “
“Straight to the topic. That’s how I like my things. Fresh, raw, with a crispy crust, if you know what I mean.”
Frank doesn’t know.
Does that refer to steaks in particular, employees in general or the slippery decorations of the fast cars? Pictures buzz through his head while Frank only sees a connection between all of this. “Fresh meat! Is this were it all ends now? “ Is he standing in front of his butcher?
“Recently, I met Mike from Nike. Hehe - great, isn’t it?”
Frank has no idea - his head is empty. “Great? WTF!”
“Mike from Nike!” Jim repeats unnecessarily. “Rhyming! Do you get it?!”
“Shaking rhyme! More than 5,000 air miles … for that?!”
“However, … I met him at Admiral’s Lounge, you know. BTW., what is Your AA-Status? Well, irrelevant … I am Admiral since my first year here in this company. I like to see things moving. Moving is important. Especially, things moving around me.”
“Coarse and a business prankster - what a combination”, Frank can’t resist the thought.
“Mike is VP eCommerce at his.”
Frank is surprised at the number of shares someone has to hold in order to own NIKE. “That doesn’t fit the VP position … Never mind … “
“They do have this thing going on. They offer registration to their customers.”
“What??”
“By knowing their customers, they can offer directly to the person. Straight to the point! You know, that’s how I like it.”
“Well, yes …”, Frank starts. “WTF!!” he only thinks for himself.
“How does this match to our indirect, partner-based sales approach we call the foundation of our tremendous success? We pursue this for more than twenty years now.”
“That’s where you came into my mind.”
“Great!”
“I need somebody to make it happen. When I checked around who in our company could make this happen, always your name came up. Obviously this German guy understands how to go digital.”
“So that’s it.”
Frank is the victim of his past success. He was dragged up the career ladder to here to find himself in the eye of a cyclone - focused by a notoric narrow-framer.
The whole thing feels completely unattainable to Frank right now. He has no idea what Jim wants from him right now.
“Listen! You are not on your own in this. I had a quick call with Srivats this morning. He assured me his full support”.
Frank has worked with Srivats and his people in Bangalore before. The project was a disaster. “Can it get any worse?”
“OK Jim!” are the only words Frank brings out. There are still so many questions circling in his head and can’t find a way out.
“And now, let’s celebrate! What a great start into a new era! It will add my name to the hall of fame, for sure”, Jim notes as he puts his muscular arm around Frank’s shoulders. Without any noticeable resistance, Jim pushes their bodies through the massive frame of the imposing door. Now they both stand at the same spot where Frank’s colleague sneaked past a few minutes ago.
“The Dallas Mavericks have the Los Angeles Lakers on court today. I heard, you are a big basketball fan. So let’s go!”
American Airlines Center
After a much too quick ride in Jim’s heavily pimped F350 Super Duty, they arrive at the American Airlines Center.
“How are ya’ll?”, Jim high-fives security. A seductive mixture of unhealthy food reaches Frank’s nose. Tacos, Fries, Sausages and Cheesesteak. While Frank wonders about what tastes most, Jim already stands next to him with two extra-big taco bowls.
“Come on my German friend, let’s say Hello to my special buddy Coach Rick.”
Frank trots on Jim’s path like a sheep and soon they reach their seats behind the Maverick’s bench.
“Hey Rick, how are ya? Hope you kicked assess of your guys after the disaster loss last week. Don’t want to stand dumb with no show-up in front of my German guest!”, Jim rambled over to the head-coach of the Mavs.
“Sure Jim. Though, no one can kick assess better than you.”, Coach Rick gave Jim a tired smile.
“Kicking assess seems to be Jim’s special skill” thought Frank.
The hot-blooded Jim showed more temperament than the game. “Hey, Coach, take the slowpoke out. He doesn’t get his ass up!”
Jim yells at the players, as if that’s the decisive contribution everything depends on. Frank winds himself more than once. “If he shows the same behavior in the project, we won’t even survive the first quarter. “
In the half-time break, Jim and Frank get a sip. Time for a craft beer and small talk.
“I can’t wait to finally get into eCommerce. Just let me know if things don’t go well. I know how to accelerate projects!”
“Sure Jim!”, Frank says dutifully while he asks himself about how could he do without Big Jim’s interference.
“I’m leaving for Germany in four weeks anyway. I’ll take a look at what’s already done. Don’t let me down, Frank.”
“How the hell should that work?” Frank asks himself rhetorically. He even does not hear the siren at the start of the second half.
“How would I ever get out of this nightmare?” Frank frightens. “Have I said this loudly?”
In the end, the Mavericks celebrated an unchallenged victory over the Los Angeles Lakers.
Frank is fascinated by the team performance of the Mavericks. Although Dirk Nowitzki is the Super Star in this team, it doesn’t seem as if he receives preferential treatment. The others don’t look like second-class players either. Their game seems so relaxed and selfless! Frank wishes his project would go like this. “But wait. Selfless is not the right word. It works exactly because they are the way they are. The game is their self-portrayal in this moment. Without themselves there would be … Unfortunately, Frank has no idea how to achieve this effortless lightness. And if he succeeds, does the result match the expectations of his senior VP? *“Does Jim also want such a sovereign victory? And if so, about whom?”
A quick glance at the watch lets him wince. It’s already 7:35. He has to hurry. His flight leaves at 10:10.
Getting away
Frank likes public transport for the same reason others hate it: you get in touch with people.
However, he does not allow himself more than 45 minutes. This must be sufficient for the transfer to DFW Airport. He has to get straight to the point, as Jim would put it now - to gate D27 in his case.
Should he ask Jim? Once again exposed to his aura for 30 minutes? “No way!”
Taxi? Hmm. There are, but in decreasing numbers. Their services are becoming increasingly unpredictable. No tracking, no reliable forecasts and a kind of Russian roulette. Sometimes you get a chauffeur and usually a driver who just does his job while he worries about nothing else.
“Alternatives?” Frank asks himself rhetorically. “While Uber has been largely suppressed from the German market for legal reasons and has left Russia as well as China due to lack of success, the service is still available in the USA.” Frank is fascinated by these augmented services. They offer a visual traceability of data that seemed unthinkable 10 years ago. Frank is also curious about these people who behave like taxi drivers without being taxi drivers.
“What stories do they have to tell?”
Taxi conversations, as he found out over the years, follow an inconsistent but widely accepted protocol. Frank suspects that this has evolved since the first carriages offered a ride for a fee a few hundred years ago.
Every taxi ride in this world starts like this:
- Goal?
- direct or fast?
- luggage?
Sometimes the price also becomes part of the negotiations. Fixed price or by taximeter?
The rest of the conversation varies. It depends on the culture of the country, the driver, the passengers and other circumstances of the given situation. “The nature of the passenger compartment has more to do with it than most people think. “ Frank reflects.
“While in carriages of the past coachmen and passengers traveled separately, today all passengers share the space and look in one direction. If you sit opposite each other, you have a better chance of having a conversation.” Frank knows this from the table seats in the large-capacity compartments on European trains.
“If everyone’s looking in the same direction, it needs a reason to talk to each other. When driver and passenger are separated by a window or a cabin door, the communication usually ends after the formal content has been worked through.” He continues to reflect without wondering why he has such thoughts right now. After all, time is ticking and he should concentrate on getting to the airport.
“As soon as the hard facts are exchanged, this silence arises. The cabin pressure rises. For some reason, no one dares to speak.” his mind continues to wander.
Frank has a secret weapon to overcome this discomfort and find out things he would otherwise never know.
“Where did you learn to speak?”
He asks that when he notices something unusual. This can be an accent, the appearance or some other detail that deviates from the stereotype of the normal. Whoever establishes this normality.
Frank doesn’t seem to be the only one with this behavioral challenge. In Europe there is a service against these unpleasant ‘car silence situations’. This is logically called ‘blablacar’. The performance of the company consists in linking personal interests and communication styles with destinations and time windows. Price and availability as well-known, variable parameters are extended by a kind of “soft parameters” - besides presupposed fixed standards such as security and cultivated appearance.
“But now it’s time!” blablacar is not available in the USA and is more geared towards long-haul journeys. “So, what to do?”
Frank reaches for the phone and checks the availability of an Uber. Fortunately, there’s one in all this NBA hustle and bustle out here. His German soul chokes him. Only 147 minutes until departure.
On the other hand: he feels prepared. Come what may.
A penetrating horn tears Frank from his thoughts. He looks around and sees a road cruiser very similar to Boss Hogg’s Caddy in ‘The Dukes of Hazzard’ - only in bright red but with just as many horns on the hood. Oblique, especially for a taxi.
“Frank?”, a guy with a cowboy hat shouts from the driver’s seat.
“Somehow I’ve seen him before”, Frank thinks when he asks him unbelievingly. “Yes sir. Are you my lift?”
“Yo, sure enough”, the guy answers with a mischievous grin.
Frank notices a familiar German accent. Now the driver switches to German.
“We’ll make it in time. Only a few people want to go to the airport at this time. There is little traffic on the highway. At this time security also goes fast.”
Frank is amazed. He did not expect a German-speaking Uber driver.
“My name is Conny, by the way. Everything ok?”
Suddenly it dawns Frank. His driver was cast in a ‘not-too-much-scripted’ reality TV show. A few years ago he emigrated. Conny recognized in the show his opportunity to get away. This made him a kind of celebrity in Germany. On the one hand because of his way of dealing with things, but above all because of his direct way of speaking people that’s common in Hamburg. He was hired for advertising, spin-offs and such things.
“Aehm…”, Frank brings the ball back into this strange game for two players.
A few minutes ago two teams were facing each other. Now two people are sitting next to each other. They head for a place that means something different to each of them. It’s like they’re playing on a basket and getting both points when they sink the ball. Does that already make them a team?
“Ahem …” Frank repeats himself while he describes a circle inside the car with his hands. “Isn’t this a bit exaggerated for a drive to the airport?”
“German efficiency”, comments Conny disparagingly briefly. “How did I miss that?
“What else?”, replies Frank without expecting a convincing answer.
“The Uber charge is just for the fun.”
“Huh? Just for fun?”, Frank wonders.
“I’m not doing this to make money. Uber is a way for me to get in touch with people. I get a part of my expenses reimbursed while I take Betty out.”
Conny lovingly caresses the steering wheel of his DeVille convertible.
“These encounters, the contacts to interesting people from all over the world, make it easier for me to support my Betty. This is a good deal for everyone! Everyone gives what he can and takes what he needs. It wouldn’t be the same if Betty and I cruised here alone”, Conny explains his motives before he becomes fundamental.
“Everyone who calls a Uber has some need for help. By putting Betty and me at their service, I also make my contribution to a better world.”
“Again this selflessness. Does fate want to tell me something? What is the lesson here?”
Frank reaches Terminal D in time. There is still so much to ask. But he doesn’t want to endanger his schedule any further. He pays his ferryman and enters the zombie reality of international airports. 110 minutes until takeoff. Just check in baggage.
“Wait a second! Where is my baggage?” Besides all this walk and talk around the basketball court he forgot his stuff in Jim’s pickup. “Damn!”
“What am I supposed to do?” Would it be a good idea to call Jim and tell him what kind of idiot he just hired? A few, almost endless seconds later, he finds no other way but to confront Jim with the facts.
“Hello, … Jim? … Well, ahem …, It’s so …” Frank tries to introduce the subject.
“You forgot your baggage”, Jim gets to the point.
“Ahhh, … yes”, Frank has to admit.
“Don’t worry! I already noticed. - Got Your papers? - Got Your phone? - That’s all you need. I take care of all the rest.”
“Thanks so much Jim!”
“Catch your flight, enjoy your time, and the rest is up to me. **You are under my wings now, my German Wunderkind. You are my man. Never forget!”
“Ohh, that’s all?” Frank stays behind alone.
He made his announcement and hung up. For Jim, the matter has long been taken care of.
“Sometimes it is nice to have such a powerful support - straight to the need. Sometimes, not always … “
The security controls are going fast as expected. 80 long minutes remain until Frank disappears into the clouds and flies towards the sun. The boarding should start in a few minutes. The personnel are preparing. They compare lists and talk to someone over walkie-talkies. There is already a long queue in front of the exit. “Time for another quick craft beer”, Frank decides at the sight of the small bar next to the exit.
The beer does its work. Already with the first sip this moment connects itself with the last beer in the half time break. Everything comes together in Frank’s head.
“As important as it is for Jim and as much help he offered … “
Frank is afraid of disappointing expectations.
AA80
After a punctual departure Frank rounds off the usual pasta with another beer and an additional whiskey. Then he falls into a restless sleep.
He hears someone typing into his notebook. Further keyboards complete the mix. The rhythm of the keyboards becomes faster. Frank sees pale faces staring into the blue light of the screens. Nobody speaks while the rhythm of the keyboards gets faster. Voices from the on-board loudspeakers mix with the rhythmic clacking:
“Howdy, Jim speaking!”, it sounds in this tone, which should sound joyful, but expresses ‘now it’s your turn’.
“Go faster guys! You need more progress. Is that all you can do?”
“YOU MAGGOTS! PULL! PULL!”
“How the hell did Jim get on that plane? Why does he scream like Ahab on the hunt for the whale?”
Suddenly a laptop catches fire, passengers scream and panic spreads.
“Go faster!”, Jim drives on.
Some people push into the aisles while others keep hammering into their keyboards.
Someone shakes Frank on his right shoulder. “Sir! Sir! Everything OK with you?”
Through half-open eyes Frank looks into the compassionate smile of his seat neighbor.
“Seems you had a pretty bad nightmare. When you screamed ‘Run! Escape from this hell!’ I better woke you up. Here’s breakfast, I kept for you. We will prepare for landing in a couple of minutes”.
Frank caws a “Thank you” as he begins to grasp the situation. Did he only dream the whole thing with Jim? What’s real?
“What is reality by the way?” His mind is in the haze. Everything is just as foggy as the clouds out there.
While he chews on lukewarm scrambled eggs, Frank tries to put together the memories of the last 24 hours. He doesn’t get a handle on it.
A small blue bag appears in his field of vision. His brain begins to assemble the letters:
A L K A S E L T Z E R
“I guess you need a little side to your breakfast.” The person sitting next to him grins knowingly.
Frank tears open the packaging and slides the small effervescent tablet into the water glass.
“My job is soon going to dissolve like this … “, his brain reminded him of ‘The Thing’.
“Strange. This project is so special, it even works without a name.” Frank has never experienced that before. Usually somebody always comes up with such an ambiguous abbreviation. With three to five characters everything is said. ETA 12:00 - If we deliver it, it is “High Noon” would be such an ambiguity. “Only one leaves the place alive” would be the completely exaggerated charge of meaning from the management. Whereas on Frank’s level it would mean: “Electronic Transfer Agent v.12.0” an unspectacular script to transfer data from one place to another.
Frank empties the glass in two steps. The words “benevolence, selfless” appear in the whirlpool of his head.
Exhaustion makes them disappear and he nods off again.
A short push tears Frank out of the cuddly nothingness. They have landed.
The cabin crew rewinds their usual announcements: “Welcome to London Heathrow. Please remain seated until we reach our parking position and the ‘fasten seatbelt’-signs go off.”
A hammering beat roars through Frank’s head.
Hangover in Heathrow!
London Heathrow, Terminal 5
In survival mode, Frank crosses Gate 3, receives his connecting flight ticket and arrives at Terminal 5.
The security team gives the hungover guy a pitiful smile.
As if in slow motion, Frank strolls through the main aisle of the terminal, past duty-free shops and boutiques. A sign with a green circle and a mermaid guides the autopilot.
The hammering beats in Frank’s head mix with his inner voice to form the ‘Bittersweet Symphony’. The melody drives him along the industrially leveled paths, past the transitions into other worlds.
The inner voice chants “Coffee! Coffee!”.
As Frank approaches, he notices a long queue at the counter. He’s no fan of the roaster from Seattle anyway. He turns away and the voice screams louder and louder:
“COFFEE, COFFEE, COFFEE!”
His head’s about to explode. He roams around … completely beside himself.
Word fragments mingle with the symphony. “I need somebody to make it happen … Don’t let me down, Frank… You are my man.”
The string of unanswered questions is getting tighter and tighter.
“How can I approach all this?” “How am I ever gonna do that?” “How do I deliver something presentable in just 4 weeks?”
“Will I still have my job at the end of the quarter? “
“Why me? “
Out of nowhere he stands in front of a coffee shop: ‘Giraffe’.
A barista greets: “Hello Sir, what can I do for you?”
“Coffee please, no milk, no sugar. Thanks!
Another stream of questions dissolves in his brain and flows until the smell of fresh brewed coffee hits his nose. The credit card payment goes smoothly and Frank is looking for a place. Fascinated by the oversized giraffe sculpture, he comes across a table. As if in slow motion, he sees a large wave of coffee leaving his cup. His eyes follow the wave until they snap into two emerald green eyes.
“Wow, I’ve never seen such lightning green eyes.”
The eye contact feels like an eternity. In fact, it was a matter of milliseconds before he and the blonde lady stared at the brown spot on the white blouse.
“Oh my god! I’m so sorry”, Frank babbles and looks around nervously, “Let me go and fix this mess!””
The hammer in his head drives him to the napkins at the counter.
"#Works!” Frank thinks as he grabs a handful of napkins.
As he turns to return to the table, the mysterious lady has disappeared. The only proof of her existence is a handwritten business card:
