The Foreign Service Journal, July-August 2007

Tucked in a prosperous corner of the Alps, the country was disappoint- ingly stable. It lacked any burning disputes with its equally placid neigh- bors and was not likely to produce a coup, border conflict or other career- advancement opportunities. So Claris- sa focused her considerable energies on impressing her boss with her im- peccable management of the em- bassy. Clarissa’s boss, Ambassador Anas- tasia Burnbottom, was a political appointee, a friend of the First Lady who had inherited a nacho-cheese sauce fortune. The ambassador was given to folksy and often opaque say- ings like “We’ve got to put the sheep down where the cats can get at them,” and “We’ll cross that bridge when the cows come home.” Linguistic foibles aside, the ambassador ran a tight em- bassy and soon discovered that Polit- ical-Economic Officer Ogden Pizzler Fitzmore was not actually doing any work. She admonished Clarissa several times a week: “That Oggie’s the slow dog on the totem pole!” Oggie was, in fact, given very few responsibilities. Once, in the absence of more senior types in the embassy, he was sent to sign the condolence book at a friendly embassy on the death of their beloved monarch and punctuated his entry by signing his name with a smiley face on the letter “I.” When Clarissa pressed Oggie to write the required reports, he assign- ed them all to his locally-engaged assistant. Jean-Rudolf wrote only in the passive voice and compensated for the fact that English was not his native language by sprinkling his writ- ing with a zesty dose of obscenities. This was particularly distracting in his drafts of documents like the Trade Practices Report. So Clarissa did what she had always done with an unresponsive col- league: she simply did Oggie’s work herself. This did not impress the ambassador, who even put the need for Clarissa to get some productivity out of Oggie in her evaluation as an “area for improvement.” Clarissa was stricken by this unex- pected notation of a genuine short- coming — in earlier evaluations her “areas for improvement” had includ- ed “Needs to share more of her deep policy knowledge with less-gifted col- leagues” and “Should take more op- portunities to demonstrate her bril- liant public diplomacy skills, as well as her show-stopping high-kicks.” The last time Clarissa had ever been any- thing less than the best at anything was when a junior high gym coach had questioned her commitment dur- ing a dodgeball game. Clarissa had taken the criticism as a challenge and went on to attend a prestigious liberal arts college on a rare and coveted dodgeball scholarship. She would not be defeated by Ogden Pizzler Fitz- more. Oggie, however, was not moved by Clarissa’s threats that her evaluation of his performance might be less than entirely complimentary. His evalua- tions had always been mixed and he doubted she could best the previous supervisor, who had observed that Oggie had “great potential if he would bring to his work the passion he reserves for baked goods,” or the one who noted more frankly that Oggie “added trouble, multiplied ignorance and divided attention.” These mixed reviews had not pre- vented him from enjoying assignments to Paris, Sydney and a variety of other sought-after posts. He was never the first choice for a given job but, if he waited long enough, eventually one of the preferred candidates would in- variably fall ill, be hit by a meteorite, or find that his career could benefit from a stint in Baghdad. All other suitable candidates having secured positions by then, Oggie would get the job by default. Studied sloth had taken him far, and he would not be driven out of it by the likes of Clarissa Finks-Elbow. This simmering low-intensity con- flict escalated at the embassy’s weekly country team meeting. Pyles, the re- gional medical officer, was giving a lengthy and particularly graphic de- scription of a waterborne disease ram- pant at his last posting. Though con- tracting the disease was a remote pos- sibility within 1,000 miles of the embassy, it was still enough of a con- cern to the RMO to warrant extensive description. “The DCM there had it in his middle ear, which is why the playing of ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ still causes him loose motions.” Milt raised his hand. “Doc, I have a question: when you say all extremi- ties are covered with weeping pus- tules, what exactly do you mean?” The ambassador stopped him. “Milt, I think that’s more druthers than we can chew.” She turned to Clarissa with a saccharine calm that indicated a follow-up scream was being held in reserve. “Deputy dear, what’s the latest on that sauce subsidy démarche?” “We’re still trying to schedule it with the Ministry of Sauces and Savories, Ma’am.” Clarissa shot a look across the table at Oggie, whom she had asked to set up the meeting. He shrugged and mouthed “Jean- 56 F O R E I G N S E R V I C E J O U R N A L / J U LY- A U G U S T 2 0 0 7 Studied sloth had taken him far, and he would not be driven out of it by the likes of Clarissa Finks-Elbow.