I want to tell you about a man called Bunny.
Just one year ago, he wouldn’t have admitted to this. It was something his wife called him – a pet name nobody else knew about. They kept it from others, even from their kids.
Then came the fundraiser for mistreated house cats. The man – I’ll call him “Steve” – and the wife – I’ll call her “Marie” – were sitting at a table with four other couples, all important clients.
They were so important, in fact, that without them Steve’s firm would have been forced to close.
Then it happened. “Please pass the salt, Bunny,” said Marie. Steve felt his face grow hot. He tried to ignore her, as if she weren’t talking to him, but it was no use. “Bunny!” she said, insistently. “Pass the salt!”
Of course, they had agreed she’d never call him “Bunny” in public, but Steve believes her nerves got the best of her and she forgot. He tried to joke it away. “I don’t know why she’d call me that,” he said, laughing nervously. “I’m not a rabbit.”
Marie was mortified by what she’d done, but of course now it was too late. Steve prayed it would blow over.
It didn’t, unfortunately. At the bar a few minutes later, Steve saw one of the important clients mimicking bunny hears, and the other pretended to munch on a carrot. To them, sadly, he was no longer a person they’d entrust with their company’s future.
Now he was just Bunny.
So often, I’m able to provide advice on a good way out – on how Steve might have made the best of the situation and retained the important clients’ confidence.
But in this case I must admit I can’t. For the good of his firm, Steve resigned – and that was the right thing to do.
In the world of business, many obstacles can be overcome. Being called “Bunny” is not one of them.
