One young banker I know is a tough cookie. She’s a powerhouse in the office, nailing more client deals than all of her colleagues. But admittedly she also has a bit of a short fuse. If you’re not on her good side, you’ll soon know.
Back in my day, we would have laughed off her stony silences and unmatchable glares as just her personality, but the Hong Kong bank she works for has expressed concern about her lack of filter. At her recent annual review, her boss told her that she was frightening some of her gentler co-workers. Their solution? An anger management course.
I can’t help but scoff at this. This woman is far from what I would consider in need of anger management. I had colleagues 20 years ago who would throw teacups across a room while disparaging their underlings. One desk mate of mine broke about three telephones from angry slamming before anyone had a chat with him.
More realistically this lady has what the kids call RBF, or "resting bitch face".
And, to be realistic, how much can really be solved with a three hour anger management course? If that is all it takes, then Tai Tai and I could have saved ourselves a lot of time and trouble on our couple’s therapy over the years.