The boutique in Manhattan operated on pure Machiavellian principles. Everything, as Emily Dickinson described in a poem, was done on the slant. That went against every principle about how organizations ought to function which I had come to believe.
However, I fit right in. After all, somehow I had learned the art of manipulation well enough to get out of a tenement in Jersey City, New Jersey and all the way to Harvard Law School. I might be overestimating myself. But I am convinced that my street genes trumped their mere greed. Over the years I probably out-Machiavellied their Machiavelli.
Extraordinary work got done. My portfolio was bursting with samples of articles for their clients' bylines which had been published everywhere that mattered. Perhaps on the slant has a lot to be said for it.
Why did I leave? The game is exhausting. So much energy must be invested in anticipating the other party's moves and then devising a strategy to out-fox that. Sometimes you lose. That hurts since it shakes your confidence in your Machiavellian skills.
One day you wake up and cry "basta" (Italian for "enough."). You don't intend to join the girl scouts. You just want to spend more time on the actual work and less on the game.
Do I miss the game? I would if I didn't have to spend so much time just boning up on subjects like data analytics and cloud computing in order to do the assignments. For that very reason, I sometimes wonder if the machinations described in "This Town" will have to end Inside the Beltway. Issues have become way too complex.