Sunday, July 1, 2012

All Hail Bev!


When it's time for you to get something done within an organization – really done! – you simply have to have that one tape-cutting, door-opening miracle worker on your side. You know who I'm talking about: in every workplace, whether it's an office, school, corporation, or (shudder!)  government agency, it all boils down to that one all-powerful administrator who. Gets. Things. Done. My name for this person is “Bev,” and, if we're lucky, we've all had a Bev in our corner at one time. In fact, the hushed phrase “Talk to Bev” is like a code for “She’ll make it happen.” And whether she’s the Executive Assistant to the CEO of a multinational company or the Office Lady at the elementary school, do not do anything - do not pass “GO” - run straight to Bev! Whether you need to book the conference room for birthday celebration, or sign a requisition form in a jiffy, or just birddog a file that went AWOL, Bev’s your gal. 

A Bev is as plump and sweet-looking as a cookie jar. When you come to her with your issue, she’ll offer you coffee from a mug that says, “Hang In There!” Sometimes, when you need to vent about a co-worker or whine about last night’s horrific date, a Bev will stop what she’s doing and be right there with her listening ears on.  Any Bev will cluck and fuss and make the reassuring sounds you need to hear. She'll even offer you a soft, pastel-colored shoulder to cry on. Best of all, you needn’t worry about her repeating your problems to anyone – Bevs are famously discreet. Your words will never leave her cubicle! And, of course, a floral tissue is always within reach.

But don’t let Bev’s warm and welcoming manner fool you! Beneath that mild exterior beats the heart of a Mother Lion! Oh, no! Once Bev believes her “cubs” are in danger, all that niceness flies out the window – and watch out for those claws! Bev means business, and she’s got the 411 on everything that happens in the office. She knows who’s depleting the toner with secret copying after hours and who hasn’t turned in their W-2 yet. I once saw a Bev collar a VP who was having a workplace romance and tell him to knock it off. It was like something from Animal Planet and it wasn’t pretty: the poor man looked like a limping zebra who had strayed from the herd. Oh, the humanity!

Even those pompous executive types know better than to cross Bev, because she knows where all the bodies are buried – and how much room is left in the crawlspace.

In other words, Don’t Mess with Bev! ‘Cause Bev’s da BOMB.  

If you have a Bev in your life, cherish her – there simply aren’t enough Bevs in the world. And if there is to be a judge of human behavior in the next world, I only hope that judge would be a Bev. I really do! I wouldn’t mind having someone with her wisdom and common sense judging me. 

And woe to the person whom Bev finds unworthy of reward! I don’t believe in Hell, but if Bev thinks someone deserves to be sent there, then so do I! I can just see her sitting there, tapping her French-tipped nails on the Pearly Gates, scowling at the defendant with those carefully-pencilled eyebrows, her eyes narrowed to slits through her neat bangs, her Peony Pink-frosted lips pursed in disappointed. There it is: busted! The Bev is not best pleased!

Face it: eventually, we all have to answer to Bev.

I do not have a Bev in my life at the moment, and that’s a damned shame. Imagine all I could accomplish if a Bev had my back! Till then, I must muddle through as best I can. It’s a little bit depressing.

Can someone please pass me a floral tissue?