How Fred got his new job

This is a story of a guy named Fred who dared to see himself as something bigger. And because he did - because he was able to take that leap of faith - he made a good thing happen. Those who dare to imagine sometimes get what they want. Those who don't never do.

We had been interviewing people for a mid-level management job for, say, five months. If that seems odd to you, then you haven't run a department where every position represents the cumulative function of six that existed before. Choose the wrong person, and you enter a zone of dysfunction not all that different from having a debilitating disease. Ever have the flu but still have to go to the office? A bad hire is like that.

You see a lot of talented people when you're in this process, but within six seconds - not seven or eight- you know whether the person in front of you is going to be somebody with whom you can sustain a ten-minute conversation. The only thing I look for is whether the prospect of doing so makes me feel like falling asleep. I am not being metaphorical. Since I was a child, whenever I feel anxious and trapped, my eyelids get heavy. You can see how much I like the whole enterprise, then. And yet it must be done.

One day, deep in the darkest part of this tedium, Fred knocked at my door. Fred has worked for us for a long time, as long as I've been here, in fact. He's a good guy and a reliable, creative player. Never saw him as a manager, though. There are many like that, actually. Put them on a horse in the middle of the phalanx and they fight with gusto and brilliance. Put that horse at the front of the column and they lead the squad by a circuitous route into the swamp.

Fred stood in my doorway and said, "You found anybody for that manager slot yet?" And I thought, "Oh, no." I like Fred. I don't want to hurt Fred's feelings. "May I come in?" said Fred.

"Sure, Fred," I said.

"I've been thinking a lot about this job you're trying to fill, and I think I could be pretty good at it," said Fred. He had a file on his lap, and he opened it. "I think there's an organizational issue at the center of the problem this job would address," he continued.

I noticed he wasn't nervous. Usually Fred seems a little nervous to me, and this was sort of interesting.

"We have a good team here," he continued, "but we don't communicate enough. We're each in our own silo. I think I know everybody here very well. I think I have their respect."

He did. And he had put his finger on the reason we had created this new post. People working in silos seldom produce as much Excellence as those who pull together, or Quality even.

"I've been here for a long time," Fred said. "And I'm finding that thinking about even the possibility of getting this assignment has energized me in a whole new way." He stopped and looked at me with very big eyes, eyes gleaming with ambition and hope. And I saw the fire in his belly.

In cartoons a hungry wolf will look at a sheep in the meadow, and for a moment the cute, woolly creature itself will disappear and in its place will stand a juicy lamb chop. This is pretty much what happened when I looked at Fred. He himself vaporized, and in his place I saw a solution, and an end to interviewing.

"Okay, Fred," I said. "We have a couple more people to see, but I assure you that I'm going to think very seriously about what you've said."

"That's all?" said Fred, and I realized another thing: Thanks to his length of service, Fred and I knew each other well enough already to have attained a certain informality. "I have a lot more to tell you about if you want to hear it," he added, staring down at his file.

"No, Fred," I said. "I like what you've shown me today. Let me just think about things a little."

For about a week I thought. I told a couple of people what had happened. "For goodness' sake," they said, "give Fred a shot."

So you'll have to excuse me. This job I do is not always fun, but occasionally I get to do something that makes somebody happy. Sometimes the answer to your prayers is right under your nose.

STANLEY BING'S latest book, crazy bosses (Collins), is available at finer bookstores everywhere.