It’s early morning and I’m in the Mazda and heading back to see Phil and Andy. The roof is firmly up against the autumnal chill, heated seats on. The 2.0 litre engine matches my mood as it eagerly punts the little car along. I’m bowled over by their keenness to have me aboard and, putting my typically ultra conservative reservations to one side, I’d decided there’s nothing to be lost in talking some more and keeping an open mind and had emailed them back to say my next day off was a Wednesday, any good? “See you then” had come the reply.
I arrive at their premises late morning and grabbing a slim file of figures of past achievements I’d prepared the previous night I make my way inside. We disappear into a back office and sit down to talk. I begin by thanking them for their continued interest, and they in turn thank me for coming back to see them. I explain my predicament regarding the writing and they ask what I would need to make it worthwhile without this. We talk around the figures we hope to achieve, and what I need out of it, Phil then lays out a proposal and negotiations start.
I leave two hours later having been offered what I have to admit is a very generous proposition. They really do want me! They’ve even left room for the writing should it ever gather pace. Phil promises to have an email to me confirming everything discussed within 24 hours, and I promise I won’t keep them waiting for a decision. I point the Mazda homeward and, in deference to the clear blue skies, drop the top and brave the elements, shrugging into a warm coat, cranking up the heater, and blasting most of the way back with the roof stowed till the onset of a final hour of dual carriageway and motorway finally wimps me out.
That evening I speak at length with The Blonde. She knows how bored I’ve become selling Fords already and, as she points out, I’ve only been there a year. I’m clearly not going to be there for ever so why not take this opportunity? I’m still hesitant about whether I really want to jump out of a well paid and secure job in the middle of a recession. After all job’s a job, right? Eighteen months ago I was considering shelf stacking, and I couldn’t even find a job vacancy for that!
The next day, as promised, an email from Phil lists everything that we’d discussed. I forward it to The Blonde and that evening we discuss it some more. On the one hand it’s a risk, I’d be leaving something I know works and is secure to take a chance on something that I don’t, and therefore isn’t. But, I have to admit, The Blonde is right, offers like this don’t come along every day. It may have the potential to fail, but it also has the potential to be absolutely fantastic! Bottom line, we decide is this. If I try and it fails, well then it fails. But if I don’t try I know I’ll always wonder “what if?”
I put on my brave trousers, pick up my vodka and orange, and retire to my study. Opening my email I hit “reply” and begin to type.
Dear Phil and Andy, I would be delighted to accept the position of…
As the youngsters would have it, OMG!