I was sat in Starbucks one day later, drinking my coffee like nobody’s business. It was quarter past two which, according to a book I’d read by Richard Branson, was approaching the optimum time to do business. Then my first interviewee of the day walked in.
Straight away I knew there was no way Richard Hat was suitable for Gary Vine Associates. What was he going to give people advice on? Names? No. He was wearing a shirt I’d seen reduce in Burton Menswear and had a phone that looked like it was still excited by Bluetooth technology. He sat down and offered to shake my hand. No. In The Art of (business) War, the master Ciáo Bentos says you should never take the hand of somebody you don’t respect.
Richard Hat sat down and tried to speak to me. No dice. I stared at him until he left. I know about business – I’ve watched Madmen. I am Alan Sugars.
I had interviewed seven lessers before the employee who fit my business perfectly walked in. She was short, stocky, and had hair like a fire in a bush of hens. Her name was Anya and she bowed when she introduced herself. Here was an employee I could respect.
We spoke for only two minutes as her English was limited, but she had all the necessary ingredients required to be my secretary, namely a poor background and a strong back. I realised that it would be better for business if I kept Anya away from the public-facing side of Gary Vine Associates. Asking her to give advice to someone would be like asking a dog about Maths: you’re left with nothing but a dog.
I left Starbucks with a spring in my step and a Rocky Road and Bacon Quiche in my hand. I got home to find that Lucy had gone to her mother’s for a few days to “think about things”. Probably her next exam.
