Scrooge & the Ghost of Christmas Past

Apparently I’ve never related this story here. With the Santa Speedo Run making its frostbitten-hamhock trudge up Newbury Street in 16° snow flurries as I type, it might be a good time to reminisce and share this classic holiday tale.

Friday December First of 2000. I went in to work as usual at Sapient’s Cambridge office. At the time, I was one of several frontend developers embedded within a huge team working on an online stock brokerage system for JP Morgan Chase and Brown & Company.

That morning we had a guest in our daily team meeting: Jerry Greenberg, one of Sapient’s two founders and CEOs. He gave us the usual little pep talk and then—since the company’s holiday party was that evening— asked for a show of hands of who would be going. Just about everybody raised their hands… except Ornoth.

It will surprise no one that I dread corporate holiday parties. The period from Halloween to New Years has always been a stressful and unpleasant time for me, and I’ve never been a fan of the party scene. So I had hoped to quietly let the event pass, in hopes that no one would mark my absence.

Fat chance! Jerry’s eyes scanned the team and he muttered his pleasure at the team’s response. Then they landed directly on me and my hands, which rested uneasily at my sides. “Ornoth? You’re not coming?” O fuck.

Before we go any further, let’s add a little bit of context. By this time, I’d been with Sapient for six years, participating in four dozen projects; helping grow it from a 100-person company to over 3,000; going through its IPO; and seeing it named to the S&P 500. Of course, Jerry had known me all that time. He and Stuart had actually discussed my hiring back in 1994, since I was the first guy they hired who had long hair! So Jerry felt pretty comfortable that he knew me.

All that matters because out of that 120-person team, I had more tenure than anyone else on the project and a longer relationship with Jerry. They viewed me as the grizzled veteran of old-school Sapient. But here I was, being confronted by Jerry about not attending the holiday party!

“Well, uh… It’s really not my thing…”

That might have gotten past my peers, but not the CEO. “Naw, Ornoth. Come on…”

We went back and forth a bit, with him trying to pressure me into committing while I danced around the fact that I didn’t want to go, even if the CEO was publicly asking me to in front of all my coworkers.

Then it hit me. There was one shining, simple, graceful way out that would enable me to save face and still avoid that inane party!

Since Sapient had grown so big, they had actually issued tickets for the party. No ticket: no entry. And the deadline for requesting tickets from HR had passed the previous week! Slammida!

“But Jerry, I can’t go… I don’t have a ticket.” Jerry (and everyone else in the room) knew I was reaching, but what could he do about it?

It was then that our eyes met, and I saw the sharklike look of a salesman who had just cornered a reluctant mark. With calculated slowness, he reached into his suit pocket and pulled out… his ticket to the holiday party, then walked over and placed it in my hand. I was out of options and dumbstruck.

As he walked back to his place in the circle, he defused any tension by joking that now he might have a difficult time getting into the party himself. Everyone laughed while I surely turned beet red. He’d called my bluff and beaten me, winning the amusement of the whole team in the process. Even I admired the panache with which he’d shown me who was boss.

And there was nothing else for me but to show up at the goddamned corporate holiday party. Worst of all, there was no way I could quietly not make an appearance, because now it would be marked by more than a hundred people!

Sheesh!