Financial Jungle

… and I wrote pig in a complementary sort of way.

I just returned from my first go-karting experience organized by my employer, who’s rewarding us for a job well done on some key projects. The race was quite refreshing and fun, but more exhausting than I had anticipated. I’m still feeling my tense muscles in my arms and legs, which may take a couple of days to recover. What’s worse is that I have nothing to brag about for my agony, since I finished near the bottom of the standings.

One tip I did learn from this adventure is that people who excel on the race track also excel on the corporate ladder, and they tend to be ruthless go-getters who don’t play by the rules. Who can blame them? Breaking the rules is the rule of the game if you’re determined to celebrate your victory prominently on a podium surrounded with champagne and beautiful models. So what if you’re given a warning when you deliberately knock an opponent off the track? What some see as barriers are opportunities by others. Warnings are free low-blows to your opponents. Go ahead. Take some risks. Bump the person in front of you off the track. If the referee doesn’t catch you, do it to the next opponent. How did I end up buried in the dust? Because I completed the race with these squandered free-passes in my pocket; my arsenal was filled with fully loaded weapons when the war was lost.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my co-workers. At the end of the day, this was a successful event. Everyone was blessed with a few great laughs, and no one took amiss for their karts spinning helplessly off track. But my colleagues better watch their back; when the race is on again, it doesn’t behoove to be Mister Nice Jungle Guy.