The first week I reported to Bob, I was desperate to figure out a way to connect with him. I was in my office in Milpitas around 6 pm when one of my direct reports, a young man named Mark, came in pretty upset. It seemed Bob Garrow had just tried to run him down with his Porsche. Actually, given his rep, Bob trying to run someone down did not surprise me that much...
"Which parking lot were you in?" I asked.
"What parking lot?" Mark replied. "I was in my office!"
Von hier. Ihre ganze Artikelserie zu ihrer Zeit bei Sun hat etwas. Vielleicht Melancholie?
