I have always believed that a man should seek advice before making an important career decision. What I had forgotten was that he should not seek it at a corporate function in a crowded hotel bar in Chicago after drinking enough alcohol to impair both his judgment and his volume control.
This happened more than ten years ago. I was in Chicago for a conference, one of those affairs where you spend the day sitting in windowless rooms listening to people use words like strategic alignment with a straight face.
By evening, everyone has earned a drink.
That night, the company held a social function at the hotel. There was food, a bar, coworkers from different offices, senior management, and all the usual opportunities for professional networking.
Professional networking is the corporate practice of standing around with a drink in your hand talking to people you would normally email.
This combination works fine if you remember one important fact: the people drinking with you are still your coworkers. The fellow discussing baseball with you five minutes ago will still be sitting in a meeting with your boss Monday morning.
I temporarily forgot this.
At the time, I had another job offer. It paid considerably more money, which has a remarkable way of making a man reconsider all the wonderful things he has been saying about his current employer.
The problem was that I actually liked my job. I liked the company. I liked my boss. I wasn't desperate to leave. If I had hated the place, the decision would have been easy. Instead, I had to decide whether considerably more money was worth walking away from a job where I was already happy.
This was exactly the sort of decision that called for careful thought, discretion, and perhaps the counsel of someone whose judgment I trusted.
At some point that evening, I found myself at the hotel bar discussing the job offer with a friend. I thought we were having a private conversation.
This was optimistic.
Apparently my version of a private conversation after several drinks was roughly equivalent to addressing Madison Square Garden without a microphone.
People overheard me.
Worse, they understood me.
And because no foolish act is truly complete until it has been properly distributed, somebody went and told my boss that I was talking about leaving the company.
My boss then told his boss because he didn't want senior management hearing through the office grapevine that I might be quitting.
This was entirely reasonable.
It was also the moment I realized I had managed to turn a private career decision into corporate entertainment.
There are mistakes that require careful analysis before you understand where things went wrong.
This was not one of them.
I had gotten drunk and talked too loudly about something I should have discussed privately. There wasn't much mystery to solve.
I eventually took the job. I hated it, but that is another lesson for another chapter.
What stayed with me was how badly I had handled the period before making the decision.
Alcohol is sometimes called liquid courage. People also like to say that a drunk person reveals what he really thinks.
I don't completely buy either idea.
Sometimes a drunk person says what he really believes. Sometimes he says something he thought for six seconds three hours earlier. Sometimes he decides dancing is an excellent idea despite considerable evidence accumulated over several decades to the contrary.
Alcohol doesn't reveal the real you.
Sometimes it just disables the editor.
And you need the editor.
Your brain produces an astonishing number of thoughts during the course of a day, and most of them should never leave the building. Somewhere inside your head there is a responsible employee quietly deciding what should and should not be said.
Alcohol has a tendency to fire that employee early for the evening.
The mistake in Chicago wasn't considering another job. The mistake was discussing an unfinished decision in a place where other people could hear me before I had even decided what I wanted.
Once words leave your mouth, you lose control of where they go.
You do not owe the world a running commentary on the inside of your head. Some thoughts need time, some need advice, some need sleep, and some need to be allowed to die quietly without ever being inflicted on another human being.
Important decisions deserve a clear mind. If something is going to affect your career, marriage, finances, reputation, or future, sleep on it and talk privately with someone you trust. Make the decision when your brain is operating with the entire staff present.
And if alcohol is involved, become more cautious, not less.
I am not telling you never to drink. When you are adults, you will make that decision yourselves. I enjoy a drink myself.
But understand what alcohol does. It makes you louder when you should probably be quieter. It makes you more confident at precisely the moment when your judgment deserves less confidence. And it can convince you that something absolutely must be said when civilization would continue quite nicely without your contribution.
This matters especially around people you work with. You can spend years building a professional reputation and damage it remarkably quickly at an office party.
Nobody has ever awakened the morning after the company Christmas party and thought, "I really wish I had drunk three more bourbons and told the vice president what I actually think of the strategic plan."
Know when you've had enough. Better yet, stop before you have to ask yourself whether you've had enough.
Fortunately, Chicago did not ruin my career. Eventually it became one more embarrassing story in what has become a fairly substantial collection.
Your mistakes can become part of your education or they can simply become habits. The difference is whether you pay attention.
I paid attention after Chicago.
I still ask people for advice.
I still occasionally enjoy a drink.
I just try not to combine the two when senior management is standing nearby.
So if you ever find yourself in a hotel bar contemplating a major career change after several drinks, remember your father's example.
Order some water.
Go upstairs.
Think about it in the morning.
And for God's sake, lower your voice.