Carpoolers

In spite of what seems to be generally accepted, men commit faster at creating strong bonds and time enduring relationships with their male counterparts. In a work environment taken over in a ninety nine percent proportion by men fighting with each other like cockerels in a cubicle, a high percentage of the office male population gets soft on each other, attached to each other, sympathetic to each other, covering for each other, protecting each other, and if all these words are not (over)used to depict love stories, what else does? Carpooling to work is one perfect example of these time-proof love stories that endure the test of ageing, true, but could also end up in painful breakups.

The two buddies who carpool together have the chance to spend at least a couple of hours daily (depending on traffic) in the minuscule space of a sedan (under)built to save gas. The first couple of weeks are dragging through the boredom and sophistication of the formal exchanges...

“Who could have thought that Federer was capable of a comeback? At his age?
"Our boss, uh, a bit of a micro manager and control freak, eh, but who's that boss who's not?"
"Why do they need a specialized role on search engine optimization? You can have a smart business analyst take care of that!"
"Truth be said, my expectations were higher when I joined this company, and now... I'm not saying I'm disappointed, but a bit concerned of the direction, yeah..."
"Tennis is less of a sport and more of an expensive entertainment nowadays. It's like poker, only one that's fun to watch.”
"I read an article about the nowadays management crisis. It's funny: try to fit the behaviours of the managers you and I had with the five manager models they expand on. Ha, ha!"

Once the initial ice layer breaks, the two carpoolers in the cockpit of their tiny vehicle start sharing the stories of their lives:

“This boss is really pushy, eh? Have you seen how hard he gets on people? I hope that makes him feel good...”
“My wife is not a great cook, the only thing she does really good are mackerel with mayo. Man, that tastes great!”
“Federer, give me a break! How much money did this guy make? Tons, I’m telling you! Why not retire into one of those fancy Swiss castles and give the chance to a younger chap?”
“How many opportunists do we have in our department? Too many to count, eh?”
“My wife never picks up her cell. I keep telling her: why do we pay the money, are we a charitable organization or what?”
"Look at Harold: a pile of incompetencies. And always invoking the idea of the team: team must give me input, help me out correct my weaknesses. How did he get away with this bullshit for so long? He's been a manager for how long now: three, four years?"

The bond grows stronger and stronger and the two carpoolers grow into a living organism with his two parts moving independently, but still communicating through the invisible wires of a Borgs-like neural connections. At some point any little pet peeve of one becomes a personal affront of the other. And let's be clear about one basic rule: your carpooling buddy is never wrong or at fault, it’s only the crazy world out there who is unfair and mean.

*

The carpooling is a challenging business: day by day, season by season, either you're worried or just contemplative, either you're sick or healthy, either you are in the mood to talk or not, you have to carry on your little conversation that fits like a glove on the engine's droning. It must be something very similar with what the partners in a police cruiser experience: roam the streets and their lives around in that white, blocky vehicle and back up for each other when bullets fly around (mostly in movies.) The story goes that the loss of one's partner equates to the loss of one's family, maybe due to an atrocious murder, beheaded by a deranged serial killer. Carpooling love is not only happy days: sometimes there's an occasional cocktail of discomfort, annoyance and embarrassment…

“Did you watch Kitchen’s Hell last night?”
“Oh, I hate that show: so rude, so gross, it’s like having been made for mentally challenged people...”
“Really, you don’t like Kitchen’s Hell? I love it! My kids cuddle up on the sofa to watch it! My wife love it!”
“Hmm…  Yeah, why not? I should give it another try maybe… never say no, eh?”

and even, hmm… jealousy:

“We’re on our own next week…”
“Oh-okay… Any reason?”
“Well… I need to attend to some personal business.”
“Oh-okay…”

And when Friday comes and the carpool buddy who initiated the temporary breakup doesn’t say anything about getting back on track next Monday, the nervousness builds up, the stingy comments start to bite, the air fills up with un-told reproaches. The next piece  of conversation can happen on the long hallway, the one linking the conference boardroom with the washrooms, a pretty dense traffic area:

“Hey, hi! What’s up?”
“Good, good… You?”
“Eh, the usual stuff! Any plans for the week-end?” (Look at me I can’t ask him what’s the plan for Monday)
“Well, not sure… They say it’s gonna rain, I believe…” (Fending off the answer, you son of a bitch...)
“Eh, they’re wrong so many times… I wouldn’t worry too much. I’d worry if it rained on Monday.” (Take this, you little rascal. You wanna dump me, eh?)
“Yeah… Mondays are bad anyway.”
“Alright. See ya.” (Who gives a rat’s ass on this? You’re not my girlfriend, for god sake)
“See ya… Oh, by the way, are we getting back to carpooling on Monday?”
“You betcha!”

There are many couples of carpoolers in my company, and they walk around like partners in a police cruiser. But instead of guns and teasers they carry coffee cups in their hands. Many times they are getting so accustomed to their reactions backed up by so many funny moments in the past, that they put on good shows for the by-standers. “These guys are fun!” runs the comment around, and they feel good about it. Their couple is a successful one. The public stardom is theirs.

The most interesting case is when your direct manager is carpooling with one of your peers, because then there’s no easy way to point out at your colleague when he screws up. I tried that. I went to my manager and we had this conversation:

“There is a bit of miscommunication between my team and Problem Management Team…” (my manager’s carpool buddy is the lead of that team.)”
“How so?” replies my manager and his face contorts into something that resembles the changing map of twisters. At least a few of them will escape the gravitational force of its cheeks and will land with a heavy blow on my face.
“Well, we tried to raise an issue regarding the approach Problem Management team…”
“Do not say Problem Management team, say team!” he cuts me off brusquely
“Ah… okay. We couldn’t get any serious feedback from that… team… because…”
"Don't say that team, say our team!"
"We didn't get feedback from... our... team..."
“What do you mean by serious feedback? Are you implying that those guys do not do their job seriously, and it’s only you who does that?” I already feel lighter twisters landing on my face. I’m approaching at high speed to the very eye of a hurricane. "Back off, back off! Disengage and abandon ship!" screams my sense of self-preservation.
“Oh, yeah… No, I mean no. Bad choice of words, sorry!”

It is unavoidable that the day will come when your carpooling buddy is going to move on. He will find that amazing job which he had waited for and got prepared for his whole life. That stupendous job that’s going to be either a huge disappointment in half a year or the entry ticket to a professional comfort zone that many people call long-term mediocrity. Or entrenched mediocrity. Doesn't matter, it's all semantics. He will cheer and you will go through all the loss stages: disbelief, mourning, anger, acceptance. And maybe down the road another carpool buddy is going to show up. And maybe the time will come for you to scream from the bottom of your lungs: The carpool buddy died! Long live the carpool buddy!