INSIDE THIS ISSUE
APRIL 2009
A Tale of Fiction TCSD Contacts Volunteer Members Board Members Event Calendar
TRIATHLON CLUB OF SAN DIEGO
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Weekly Workout Calendar Member Profile New Members Ironman Conversation Race Discounts
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Friends Offering Discounts 9 Race Report 9 Coaches Corner 10
TriNews
THE CONSULTANT APRIL CLUB MEETING BBQ AND “POTTLUCK” April 5th, Sunday Coastal Sports and Wellness SPECIAL GUEST: ANDY POTTS Olympian, IM 70.3 World Champion and 3x winner of CA 70.3 Post race get together, share your recent race stories. Bring your favorite side dish or desert. Prizes for best dishes. Burgers, Brats and sodas provided by the Club.
A Tale of Fiction By Barbara Javor Rushing from the airport after an early Friday morning transcontinental flight, I was the last person to enter the meeting. I was also the youngest and the only woman. Normally that doesn’t bother me, but my women’s intuition registered the assemblage of four businessmen as T-Heads, a term one of my running friends uses to describe guys whose testosterone drives them to silly male behaviors. Mr. Eli Garrity, the president of the company, had called me two weeks earlier to inquire whether I would be interested in bidding for a contract to run a marketing campaign for a new product they were launching. I jumped at the opportunity, and prepared and sent a proposal outline immediately. Mr. Garrity called again, very enthusiastic, and essentially said the job was mine. I spent an unpaid week preparing a detailed marketing plan and flew across the country on my own dime, knowing the first payment of the contract would cover those expenses. All I had to do today was shake hands with everyone, present the campaign strategy, and sign papers. Mr. Garrity, a self-confident, pudgy man, introduced me to the vice-president and to two other consults. The other consultants made their presentations first on financial matters and software development, and I
breezed through mine. My stomach was still on East Coast time and growling for lunch by the time I finished. “Ms. Statham, this is an interesting campaign you’ve outlined,” Mr. Garrity said, waving the bound copy I had put on the conference table, “but we’re not certain that’s the tack the company should take. We’re used to more traditional strategies.” I froze. “What? You as much as said the marketing campaign was mine. That’s why I flew here this morning.” I could feel the heat of anger rising up my neck and face. “Maybe you misunderstood. You presented a proposal, not a done deal.” He laid the copy back on the table. “We’ll need to discuss it and get back to you.” I could barely control my voice. “Mr. Garrity, where I come from, a person’s word is as good as a contract.” I picked up the copy. “I didn’t need to spend forty hours preparing this and flying 3000 miles just for you to tell me you’re not interested.” I shoved the copy into my briefcase and picked up my small overnight bag. “This is not how I do business. Good day, gentlemen.” Without a glance back, I walked out of the continued on page 3