Celia Rivers
At the company’s quarterly awards ceremony, the CFO suddenly announced a new performance criterion.
He produced a raffle drum decorated with lucky symbols.
“Any employee who draws the grand-prize ticket will receive a quarterly bonus of $150,000.”
After a few seconds of stunned silence, all my colleagues rushed forward, and somehow, every one of them drew a winning ticket.
Yet I, the company’s top salesperson with a $60-million contract in hand, drew the only losing ticket.
The CFO tossed a good-luck charm onto my desk.
“Alex, you may be our top salesperson, but your luck is terrible. You’re going to drag the whole company down.
“The company prepared this charm especially for you. Take it and get rid of your bad luck. Work harder next quarter, and maybe you’ll earn the bonus.”
In an instant, all the colleagues who had once showered me with flattery backed away with mocking looks, as if I were some piece of trash that brought misfortune to everyone around me.
I swallowed my humiliation and confronted my boss.
He didn’t even bother looking up.
“Mr. Lee is doing this for the company’s growth. As a veteran employee, you should understand.
“Besides, it’s your own fault for having such terrible luck. Instead of wasting my time, why don’t you hurry to a church and pray?”
I argued my case, but the security guards threw me out.
Furious, I suddenly felt a strange sense of relief.
I turned around and called our rival company.
“I have the contract your company has been fighting us for. Would you be interested in making a deal?”