Throw The Book At ‘Em

Collaboration is the cornerstone of any healthy partnership. But sometimes, for whatever reason – language barrier, pharmaceutical stupor, extreme apathy – it’s impossible. There’s no getting through to your “partner.” You’ve tried the time-honored techniques of creative bonding. Building a huge rubber band ball or performing trust falls in an empty elevator shaft. That will only take you so far. And in the case of this particular type of trust fall, it all depends on how tall of a building you work in. Which unless you've greased the palms of several contractors, it hardly in your hands. 

Sometimes, you need to take emergency action to stimulate your compadre into immediate productivity. What I do when approaching a visible impasse, clearly marked, yet undefined, is always the same. I throw a book at them. 

Many early adopters of this projectile-aided form of motivation insist on using the heaviest book on their shelf. Something with a thick hardcover that may or may not be cardboard, but when it strikes a forehead it might as well be a piece of hurricane-tested plywood. The problem here is that once you throw Infinite Jest at a colleague, there’s very little room left for you to wiggle. You’ve shown your hand and now you better hope they fall in line. For a passing moment, you’re overjoyed that you kept the thousand page plus volume within reach despite your inability to open the thing and read it. Who cares? This is better. 

I prefer throwing small, pamphlet-style books. Ones that are only slightly heavier than a playing card. Always paperback and usually somewhere around 100 pages. Books of poetry work well, your high school reading is a great start. Anything that you can toss in rapid succession helps get your point across. What point is that? The point that you want them to start cracking the books. 

When you sense this tactic may be necessary, start by warming up your arm. The last you thing you want is an angry coworker and a torn rotator cuff. 

But don’t for a second think you did this to them. While you are the one throwing a milk crate full of trashy supermarket fiction in their direction, they did this to you by not stepping up first. You’re the messenger and Clive Cussler is the message. 

Unfortunately, too many people get their groceries delivered, so there’s little time to pause and spin the book rack looking for a light spy thriller. Everything is digital now. Even the advertising annuals, my last resort to get my point across. Too bad you can’t throw a computer at someone without worrying about the repercussions. There's too much paperwork to fill out, too many cords to unplug. You're better off trying to work with me or slapping yourself silly with a few Clancy novels. It worked for me.