The Red-Nosed Manager

Our stores across the country were
divided into several areas,
and an "Area Manager" was
assigned to manage them.

The manager
establishes guidelines based on medium-term plans,
and provides support and guidance to the store managers.

Since these areas were
wide-ranging and spanned across prefectures,

touring each store
would consume half of the month.

Policies and key performance indicators
differed depending on the manager,

so some did not visit stores every month,
focusing instead on email and phone calls,
naturally prioritizing
cost-effectiveness and efficiency.


The store visits by the second manager
I had after becoming a store manager
were consistently at a pace of once a month.

To show appreciation to the staff,
he often came by carrying a box of Mister Donut.

He was in his late 50s at the time.
He was about the same height as me at 164 cm.

He had a chubby build, a round face, and round eyes.

His hair was a bit sparse, but
he had a charming appearance.

He also loved to drink,
and would often invite us out,
saying, "Let's go get some food!"

And,
whenever he had a drink, his nose would invariably turn red.

Our "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer"

was a middle-aged man in a suit who looked like he belonged
at a Hoppy bar under the train tracks,

the kind who might get stopped by an interviewer
at the steam locomotive plaza in front of the station.

There were regular area meetings
where the manager and area store managers would gather,

and the social gatherings afterward
always involved similar topics.

"Did store X hire two people last month?"
"Ah, but one is quitting again next month."

"We haven't had a single application in two months."

Chronic labor shortages.
Staffing issues at the store were the biggest headache,

and on top of that,
"I don't want to be on the same shift as that person,"

dealing with staff who brought personal likes and dislikes
into shift scheduling,

or the tug-of-war with young staff

who would cry and insist on taking time off
because a busy period overlapped
with the live concert of an idol group they were following.

In proportion to how much they had been drinking, the topic of
worries over labor shortages would gradually turn into a quagmire.

Every store manager had worries
they couldn't tell their own staff,
so these social gatherings tended to become venting sessions for managers.

At one point, one of those topics
became serious and the atmosphere grew heavy.

"Hey, Manager,
are you even listening?!"

One store manager
poked the manager who was listening in silence.

"Huh? I'm listening... I, you see..."


As usual, his nose was red,
and his expression was melting into a daze,
the manager muttered.



"I... I want to fall in love..."

Clink...

He gently placed a delicate wine glass,

which looked out of place with his appearance,
onto the table.

His pinky finger was sticking straight out.

The store managers watched
even his fingertip,

then returned their gaze to his red nose.

Like a movie scene that had been
paused,
everyone's gaze froze right there.

A moment of silence.

It was probably
the moment everyone thought the same thing.

— We have to recover from this flow —

“Whoa! Haha!”
“So sudden!”
“You’ve had a bit too much to drink!”
“Tell us your type!”

“Who needs a drink refill, raise your hand!”

A sense of solidarity
like a team that had started pulling a rope in perfect unison.

At the same time, each of them
“played” the rest of the “social gathering” scene

and moved to “recover” it.

Ignoring the strangely boisterous store managers,

the manager smiled faintly
while keeping his melting gaze fixed on the wine.

His cheeks
were even redder than his nose.

Wine, nose, cheeks.

Was that triple-red
some kind of parallel shift technique from the swamp?

Also, there was a time at a national conference

when the presenter on stage
suddenly had their voice tremble
and couldn't speak a word.

Since they had been looking at the data on the screen
and the materials in their hands,

no one knew what had happened to her
as she covered her mouth and looked down.

In the hushed conference hall where everyone was gauging the atmosphere,
a strange sound suddenly echoed faintly.

It was snoring.


And rhythmic snoring at that.

Everyone's eyes turned at once
to our dear reindeer sitting in the very front seat

facing the presenter on stage.

Even though he was in a risky seat
where he was easily visible from everywhere,

he sat with his arms crossed,
his face tilted straight up, snoring
as if he were having a pleasant dream.

His sleeping face with his mouth wide open
and his rhythmic snoring were in full view from the stage.

The presenter couldn't hold back the laughter
at how defenseless he looked,
and got stuck.

Why did the reindeer sit there?


There were other seats to choose from,
so why the very center of the front row?

Nudged on the shoulder by the person sitting next to him,
the manager's head, which had been tilted straight up,
snapped forward,


and he woke up with a
“Hmm...?”

“Ah, no, I don't have any questions...”
he muttered.

From one side of the large conference hall to the other,
suppressed laughter
rippled like waves.

When I turned around timidly,

the department managers who were participating in the back row
had also become part of that ripple.

The reindeer was always popular with everyone.

That said,

because he often had incomplete documents, was late, or forgot things he had been told,
he was often teased by the store managers,
saying things like "Please do it properly"

or "Didn't I ask you to do this before?"

However,
instead of getting angry at such teasing from the store managers,

he would say, "My mission is to see how little work I can get away with,
listen up you guys, don't give me any work!"

laughing out loud as he retorted.He never tried to act smart,

never acted arrogant, and for better or worse,


he was always on equal footing with us.
When something unpleasant happened, he would declare,
{



I'm in a bad mood right now}

and when he didn't like something, he would pout like a child,

{
I'm not doing it}

he would pout.

"...But, wait,
if I don't do it, will you be in trouble?"

After saying that vigorously,

he would look up at the frowning store manager with a sheepish expression.

How such a free-spirited person

could remain in the organization
was a mystery to me.

But I loved him,
and for some reason, I also respected him.

Asking "why" would be rude, but...

{You should just be yourself and manage the store}

He always told me that.

Back then,
I didn't understand the value of those words.

I couldn't relax my shoulders.

Or rather,
I didn't know how to relax.

Even though there was a perfect role model right in front of me (lol)

Our reindeer
might have actually
been Santa Claus.

And the beer I drank with him
was always the best.