“The Golden Taco”
By TheFossilMedic
One day at band camp:
I worked for a company called Mercy Ambulance in Fontana/Rancho Cucamonga California. This would have been during the late 80’s early 90’s.
Mercy was a great company, with great people and it is truly missed by those who had the pleasure of being employed there. Well, almost all of the employees anyway!
Mercy’s founders were four gentlemen named Steve, Homer, Don and Terry, affectionately known as the Owners!
As with any company, the owners of Mercy Ambulance definitely had their quirks and dysfunctional moments. This story represents a snapshot of a few of those “dysfunctional moments” and “quirks” of the four men. It is written with my deepest respect and admiration for the four of them.
A typical Board Meeting:
The four owners would go into the boardroom and close the door.
A discussion would ensue, and it was sometimes centered on the fact that Homer wanted to terminate an employee. Sometimes the discussions would turn ugly and the sounds being emitted from that room would go from a light rumble to very loud yelling and arguing.
Don would always turn beet red in the face, and kept both hands flat on the top of table. He’d say something to the effect of “Now let’s hear all of the facts first Homer”. He knew Homer always wanted to fire someone, for something.
Steve would literally jump up on the boardroom table and walk across the entire span of the thing. He’d be wagging his finger in the air, proclaiming with teeth clinched, “We’re the owners of this place; we can do whatever the hell we want”! He’d become spitting mad, literally.
Terry would always quietly intervene and say something like “Ok Steve, let’s just all relax a little. We need to discuss this further” or “I’m sure there’s got to be a better way we can handle this”.
Terry was always very quiet and deliberate. After Terry’s browbeating, Steve would stop in his tracks, pull down on the bottom tips of his vest, and say “Well! Yes, I’m sorry”.
He’d meekly make his way back across the table, quietly climb down with a nervous shake, and eventually all of the yelling and shouting would get reduced to a quiet roar.
Whenever the owners were considering termination, the employee would be seated in a chair that was strategically placed outside of the boardroom. Just close enough for the person to hear the roar, but never the actual discussion. They’d sit quietly and nervously, and always under the watchful eye of Carmen, the owners secretary.
Suddenly Carmen’s phone would buzz loudly. She’d get up from her desk, walk over to the employee and say something to the effect of “They’ll see you now” or “You’re on”!
She’d open the door, the room now being very quiet she would casually escort the person to a very empty chair at the end of the long table. With a cat who caught the canary expression on her face.
The meetings would begin with idle chit-chat, and then one of the owners would ask the employee some questions. All eyes focused on the employee, and the four men would listen intently to what the employee had to say.
After about an hour or so, the door to the boardroom would swing open. The employee would exit the room first, full of fear, almost a petrified look on their face. One of the owners, usually Steve, would be following directly behind them. The remainder of the owners remained in the room, quiet and motionless.
As he passed her desk, Carmen would quickly slip Steve an envelope, which he’d nervously place into the inside breast pocket of his suit jacket. He’d give her a smile and a simple bow in her direction, and say “Thank you Carmen”! “I’ll be next door at the Taco Bell having lunch with (insert employee name here)”.
“Ok, Steve I’ll be sure to let everyone know” she would respond, very loudly and very deliberately.
While engaging in simple talk along the way, Steve would casually usher the employee through the maze of cubicles scattered about the office. A hush would quickly consume the busyness of the office staffers, who were just dying to see the pomp and circumstance pass by. They would sit quietly at their desks, peering out as if witnessing a funeral procession. Straight faced, yet eager to catch a glimpse at which employee was walking that final Green Mile.
If really in a “pissy” mood, Steve would shoot them with a look of his own. One of those non verbal kind; A “It’s none of your business” type of scowls. It was a menacing look, as if he had caught them leering or enjoying the demise of another person. They’d quickly shuffle back to work, flustered and acting as if they hadn’t seen a thing. But now their hearts were pounding in horror, afraid that they may have been caught, and yet still feeling lucky that they were not walking that walk too.
After reaching the front door, Steve would politely open it for the doomed employee. The two would then exit the building. As the door closed shut, Carmen would immediately signal the remaining owners with a quick buzz via the boardroom phone. They’d exit the room quietly chatting and laughing, as if nothing whatsoever had happened.
One of them would casually give Carmen a shout-out notification and say “We’re going to lunch, but we’ll be back”! It was a signal to her that she better stay busy, and not run around the office “filling-in” her closest friends. But the owners rarely ever returned from lunch.
Acting much like teenagers, the three would quickly scatter through different exits. All of them knowing the task now faced by Steve at the Taco Bell.
With his hands in his pockets, Steve would walk with the employee, through the front parking lot and around the wall. He would always speak to them in a somber tone. Almost in a Father-like manner, as if to be giving sage advice to one of his children or close friends.
Walking with them into the restaurant, he always held the doors open for the employee. Steve would always be dignified and respectful to them. The two would approach the counter, with Steve telling the employee “Order whatever you want! It’s on me”!
With his wallet in hand, he would tell the clerk “I’ll be paying for everything, thank you” always giving the employee and the clerk a big wide-mouth grin, always remaining friendly and respectful. Then he squint his eyes closed, just for an added effect.
After getting their food, Steve would pick out table in the quietest spot of the restaurant. Motioning with an outstretched hand, he would tell the employee “Please be seated”.
Sitting down and allowing the employee to get in their first few bites of that final meal, Steve would slowly and methodically reach into the breast pocket of his coat.
There were only three reasons he would be reaching into that pocket of his:
1.) You were getting a promotion.
2.) You were getting a raise.
Or
3.) You were the unfortunate recipient of “The Golden Taco” and you were leaving the company. Today!
Now as cold and calculated as this may seem, it wasn’t always bad for the employees. Most of them knew it was coming. What actually surprised them most was the fact that Steve would always give them a sizeable severance. He was truly a kind-hearted man.
Finally, he’d shake their hand, clumsily get up from the table, and exit the Taco Bell, walk around that wall and back over to his office.
Sitting in his big comfy chair, he would quietly stare out of his office window. Pondering, or sometimes even depressed at what he had to do. Personally, I caught him quietly sobbing, because he had to let an “old friend” go.
Footnote: One of the most interesting parts of “The Golden Taco” was the fact that nobody really knew what Steve was going to do. He always made his final decision between the time he received the envelope, to the time where reached into that breast pocket of his. Steve only left that boardroom with the mere blessings of the other owners. It was his choice to make!
PSS: Steve, Homer, Don and Terry were truly some of the most compassionate and passionate people that I have ever met in this industry.
What about me? The only time I ever walked away from that process with fear and dread, was the day Steve told me that he and the other owners had decided to sell their company to Careline. And that is an entirely different story!
I’ll see you on the flip-side of this business!
TheFossilMedic
