The Bridge
Now batting cleanup: The Bridge. Every company has one; most have more. I call ‘em Bridges because all they do is get over. They do just enough to not get fired. They’re seldom if ever, motivated unless they believe their job is on the line. The Bridge lives from paycheck to paycheck, by choice. Folks used to call ‘em slackers.
Bridges are pretty easy to spot. They’re usually stuck in entry-level positions for way too long. Every now and then one slides up to a supervisory role, but it’s rare—too much work and responsibility. Funny thing about Bridges is, by and large, they’re smart and talented folks. They have potential. But quite often potential is just a fancy word for “not yet.”
Most bridges get jobs thru nepotism and networking. (In Chicago, half the city workers are somebody’s cousin or nephew.) You know the types: Daddy’s the boss, or they’re the client’s daughter or son. Or they went to the “right” college, joined the “right” frat or sorority. Somebody owes somebody a favor and they’re the favor…
L-Boogie
One classic Bridge I knew was “Laurie.” Laurie was a party girl, straight out of college. Kind of an Abercrombie & Fitch type: Tall, dark-hair… real girl next girl-next-door looks, but with a better body. She went to a Big Ten school, probably would’ve pledged if she wasn’t so busy laughing at ‘em. Laurie’s old man was a shot-caller for our biggest client. If I remember correctly: Pops worked a lot. When she was 16 he got her a Porsche. At 18 he sent her to Europe. When she graduated from college, he got her this job.
Near as I could tell Laurie was cool people. She was easy to talk to, mainly because she was hardly ever working. She came in hung over some. Spent most mornings drinking Starbucks and reading magazines. Spent afternoons on the phone with friends planning happy hour. Occasionally, someone yelled at her and she’d do some work. Sad thing was, like most Bridges, Laurie wasn’t stupid or terribly lazy. Actually, she was smart. She could’ve been good if she wanted to but she didn’t have to. And that’s the way of The Bridge: Don’t just cross the bridge, become the bridge. (It was some sort of Zen/Dharma & Greg thing.) Anyway, after a while, Laurie quit. I think Daddy got her a better job somewhere else.
The thing is, most Bridges learn their behavior early. I see lots of ‘em when I speak at colleges. They’re kids whose parents let them coast their whole lives. Momma never tells them “no.” Daddy gives ‘em everything. The notion of working and being grateful for opportunities is foreign to them.
Burning Bridges
As for the collective Bridges, you have a few contractors, vendors and firms in every industry whose sole purpose is to get over—to do as little as possible for as much as possible. Just look around, you’ll find them. For my money insurance companies are classic bridges. We’ll discuss them in the “CREAM” chapter.
Bridges are pretty easy to spot. They’re usually stuck in entry-level positions for way too long. Every now and then one slides up to a supervisory role, but it’s rare—too much work and responsibility. Funny thing about Bridges is, by and large, they’re smart and talented folks. They have potential. But quite often potential is just a fancy word for “not yet.”
Most bridges get jobs thru nepotism and networking. (In Chicago, half the city workers are somebody’s cousin or nephew.) You know the types: Daddy’s the boss, or they’re the client’s daughter or son. Or they went to the “right” college, joined the “right” frat or sorority. Somebody owes somebody a favor and they’re the favor…
L-Boogie
One classic Bridge I knew was “Laurie.” Laurie was a party girl, straight out of college. Kind of an Abercrombie & Fitch type: Tall, dark-hair… real girl next girl-next-door looks, but with a better body. She went to a Big Ten school, probably would’ve pledged if she wasn’t so busy laughing at ‘em. Laurie’s old man was a shot-caller for our biggest client. If I remember correctly: Pops worked a lot. When she was 16 he got her a Porsche. At 18 he sent her to Europe. When she graduated from college, he got her this job.
Near as I could tell Laurie was cool people. She was easy to talk to, mainly because she was hardly ever working. She came in hung over some. Spent most mornings drinking Starbucks and reading magazines. Spent afternoons on the phone with friends planning happy hour. Occasionally, someone yelled at her and she’d do some work. Sad thing was, like most Bridges, Laurie wasn’t stupid or terribly lazy. Actually, she was smart. She could’ve been good if she wanted to but she didn’t have to. And that’s the way of The Bridge: Don’t just cross the bridge, become the bridge. (It was some sort of Zen/Dharma & Greg thing.) Anyway, after a while, Laurie quit. I think Daddy got her a better job somewhere else.
The thing is, most Bridges learn their behavior early. I see lots of ‘em when I speak at colleges. They’re kids whose parents let them coast their whole lives. Momma never tells them “no.” Daddy gives ‘em everything. The notion of working and being grateful for opportunities is foreign to them.
Burning Bridges
As for the collective Bridges, you have a few contractors, vendors and firms in every industry whose sole purpose is to get over—to do as little as possible for as much as possible. Just look around, you’ll find them. For my money insurance companies are classic bridges. We’ll discuss them in the “CREAM” chapter.
The bridge is ova, the bridge is over.
—KRS-ONE
—KRS-ONE
