Recently the project I was assigned to came to a rather graceful, and most certainly successful end. As it ended the subsequent system maintenance contract began and I moved on to it along with a new project manager type. This new bloke quickly became identified by the moniker “PM Boy” (actual nickname with held to protect the not-so-innocent). Over and over he’s proven that the name will never leave him.
Let’s reminisce about the other day. PM Boy strides into my pod with one thing on his mind…..wait…..wait…..damn, I think he forgot it. Dissuaded none-the less PM Boy returns to the scene of his first volatile memory purge and begins to discuss how he would like us to record the items we work on during the day. The earlier statement I made about the project being a success is based solely on the fact we spend days on end surfing the web while we wait for the next production issue to hit us. So PM Boy, in his over eager and pure textbook ways, decides that we should have a 10 tier breakdown for the time we spend looking at these rather elusive issues. By the time he finishes discussing the 10 point plan, PM Boy has started to hit his stride. That is until he trys to say the name of the client we are working for. Our client is commonly referred to by a three letter acronym, and PM Boy just can’t spit it out that day.
Part of what PM Boy was brought onto the team for was to take some of the direct client heat away from me, or the next poor sap who performs my role. PM Boy is most definitely my senior in many ways. He’s older than me. He’s been in the industry longer than I have. He’s even the holder of a higher position within the company. Unfortunately, PM Boy has nothing real world to go with those attributes. I look at the things I’m currently doing and think “Hmmmmm…..PM Boy is supposed to do this, maybe I should teach/sucker him”. Then I come to the unfortunate realization that there is just no way in hell I’m going to expose him to the client in that situation. He’ll get eaten alive (insert mental image of circling sharks and a rag-doll corpse). Worse yet, I’ll end up having to sort through the dismembered corpse in an attempt to find the vaguest semblance of normalcy.
I’ve only given the guy 2 weeks so far, so I’ll cut him some slack. But if this is the way it’s going to be in 3 months, I should start taking names of willing and eligible liver donors.
I’m the Igloo Coder and for all you PM types out there, if you want to wear the pink tights and the lavender cape, please, for the love of Pete, spend some time wearing it in front of a mirror while you practice saying the name of your client.