Since then, we've both gone on to bigger and better things--although her things are a little bigger and a little better than mine. She flies on the company jet; she keeps two households; she gets a mondo big yearly bonus. (Although I do get a fat and particularly juicy turkey at Thanksgiving and all the crochet instruction books I can eat.)
At any rate, after all these years, I pretty much know how she operates, and why she's as successful as she is.
Or so I thought.
Then last week she tells me, "Oh yeah. Whenever I have something I absolutely have to get wrapped up, I wait for 4pm on Friday to call the meeting. I call 'em in at 4, tell 'em what I need, and they agree to anything--I'm telling you, THEY'LL GIVE YOU THE WORLD just to get out of there."
Wow. All this time, I've had this image of Tawana, using her southern fried charm to make things happen all the way out there on the east coast. Instead, I discover that her business acumen is based almost entirely on the philosophy of hostage-negotiation.
And she may very well be the most hated woman in her entire company.