finding stability in constant change:: four years of serial entrepreneurship
March 6th 2000 was the day I was confirmed manager at Andersen. Although it could have been the starting line for the average eager beaver, for me it was a clear finish line that I had been waiting for a while... it was the marked line in the sand that I had promised myself. I was waiting for that finish line to pursue my real career.
Six months too late as per strict androidian yearly rituals, but a last ditch effort by the partner in charge in trying to keep me happy by forcing a semi-annual promotion was just my triggering bolt out of Andersen.
Honestly, although I pretended that it was too late and that they had
missed their chance to keep me, it felt sweet - as sweet as the Moet I had promised Tammer, Fern and Cyril at Extreme upon my promotion. "Perfect" was what I was telling myself - satisfied with meeting my objective to achieve that earmark before turning 25 - "mission accomplished" I told myself. I wanted out, and that was the trophy I needed to minimize regret.
Little did I know that I was getting the hell out of the Titanic, before it hit the Enron iceberg in 2001.
Although I knew this departure was an inevitable step in my life, I still had tears in my eyes the night of celebration at Extreme. No, not tears of joy, nor from feeling of regret. For the first time in my life, I really felt that time and my life was slipping like Varadero white-sands through my fingers. That was the first time that I felt
fear of the unknown.
I always saw work at Andersen as an extension to my undergraduate commerce studies at McGill in Accounting and MIS. Frankly, having been bored though 2 years and a half at McGill, while working full time and maintaing a really high GPA, I had lost all respect for academia. I saw the various roles at Andersen as a real "Masters" in business consulting. Obviously, I was not expecting neither a "paper", nor a title! Heck, with fourteen letters in your last name, you don't really strive to add more letters to your name! I was already racking in more than the CA's, the CMA's and the wanna-be MBA's at the now defunct
premier worldwide professional organisation.
Beside the sweet lax expense account previliges at Andersen, the other memorable perks at Andersen were the incredibly amazing Aeroplan Air Canada Miles we were accumulating like Super Mario Coins and the unforgettable people and situations at St-Charles training center: a Worldwide watering hole for all the temporarily-liberated whipped men and sex-starved accountrix.
I vividly remember this partner from New York that was originally an Italian-Canadian from Montreal pointing me out this "beer goggle-decent" manager from the mid-west. Being a newly promoted Manager, I had to endure endless drunken coaching points from the more experienced partner who was training me like a new pup arriving at the hound dog - the intricacies of the Andersen bar mating rituals. He grabbed my arm while maintaing the firmest grip on his Sam Adams bottle, yelling in my right ear "Come on man, a chick at a bar in red - she obviously is leaving tomorrow and wants to - HAS GOT to - be picked up tonight...".
He was married and clearly older than he wished we was now, and I am sure he was not the happiest camper. He must have loved these training escapades - as much as a Canadian businessman in Havana or a British diplomat in Bangkok!
Married with this accountant from Jersey and living "happily" in Long Island. Yet the last thing oozing from his wide-opened eyes were happiness as he confided to me who he missed Montreal. He remenisced about his favorite Crescent hangouts and sharing stories he will take to his grave... or share with other younger polite colleagues from anywhere Andersen was hiring.
On that same trip, I met another partner from New York, who actually lived in Vermont and thought that he was much smarter and sharper than he really was. His story also involved his life-mate who had bought a farm near the Canadian border and prospects of getting involved with my ventures in Montreal seemed to pump new blood to his aging committed veins.
Yes; - ventures - little did I know that the next four years would be a constant swim from one project to another constantly mutating project. Although to my friends and family around me, this trek may have felt like a cruise ship making several stops on the same relaxing journey, from peaceful port to the next beach and off to the following exotic seaport - it really felt - and still feels - like a shipwrecked survivor - fighting strong waves from one piece of floating debris to the next. Sure, in four years much has been achieved, but in reality, it has been a hell of a ride: emotionnally, financially, and especially romantically.
Things have been good, but the only constant and reliable fact of life has been surprises, changes in strategy and tactical dodging and deffering of unforseen problems - the planned for difficulties can be overcome swiftly - but the energy spent on the unknown is tremendous.
Still, I would not have done anything differently and for an agnostic realist like myself, you end up feeling the gravity and the unalterable attraction of your destiny. While not leaving anything to fate, you soon realize that odd opportunities present themselves and difficult problems just melt away sometimes by sheer mystical magic and inexplicable occurances.
Excerpt from Whipped - Copyright taravati.com 2004
