Rubbing my Radish!

Not so long ago, I had a chat with a friend about the giving of presents to clients, guests, visitors, friends, when they come to look at your company etc. I remember an old boss telling me, on pain of death, that I couldn't accept anything at all, especially if it were given by an agent, because it was... illegal. I recoiled smartishly and quickly pushed a large bottle of whisky on the floor, out of sight.

It's not easy to draw a line on this one - what's acceptable and what's not. Clearly a bottle of whisky is OK (isn't it?), but a suitcase of notes is not.

It's not just the old bribery / corruption factor - there's also the delicate question of rudeness, if you turn a pressie down. In China, Japan or the Middle East, the passing of gifts across the boardroom table is part of the culture. It would be toe-curlingly impolite to turn them down for any reason at all.

OK... OK... I think I know where this is going. A box of chocs or shortbread or a bottle of Jameson is all right... surely. It's nothing I should be worried about. Problem solved.

But... let's go back a few years. I was teaching medical English in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia . One student - I remember his name - Abdullah, came up to me and pushed a set of keys onto my teacher's desk, at the end of a lesson. I asked him what they were for. He replied airily that he had no idea. They were not his. He frowned and stared at the ceiling. I frowned and stared at the keys.

There was a short pause. Then he ventured the possibility that they looked like they might fit the door of a spanking new, metallic Trans-Am car crouching in the car park outside. I was a little confused. He smirked, shrugged and then asked very politely if I thought he would pass his end-of-year exams, which were pretty important, if you wanted to become a doctor.

I told him he would have to work extra hard...

"No, teacher, you do not understand," he tried, smiling like the Cheshire cat.

I remember pushing the keys back towards him and sighing deeply. Ironically, I could have done with a set of wheels like that. Walking the streets in 40 degrees plus, is no fun at all.

Then there was the bag of cash.

This was a few years later in China and was designed to make an agreement between an Australian college and the local government ministry go seamlessly. I was the somewhat unwilling go-between, because I lived there at the time and knew the man in charge at the ministry.

The bag was extra to the commission and discounts we had agreed upon. It was to be a thank you 'present' to the man at the ministry, who had given the nod to the Australian college to get the contract. I was informed by a secretary at the ministry that the 'passing-of-the-bag' was to be done quietly and without anyone else seeing the whole messy business. I was also informed that I was to be the person who would perform the necessary footwork of sliding the bag under the table to the appropriate manager. It was to be done extremely... discreetly.

You see, I was told, if my contact's boss were to see the bag, then there would be trouble. Big trouble. Much rolling of eyes after this comment. I tapped my nose and said I understood. I would not want my contact to get into trouble.

The secretary frowned. Clearly I had not understood. She leant close and whispered in my ear: "If he sees the bag... he will immediately demand a bag for himself. A larger bag."

"Ahh."

I had misunderstood.

The best and debatably almost useful present I have ever been given was OK, I think. It was a large jade radish on a wooden stand. Yes, a jade radish (see above). It was given by a visitor to the school where I was working at the time, by a teacher from Kazakhstan. Not worth much (I looked it up on eBay), but it had hidden powers. My visitor explained in a hushed voice that If I were to rub the radish, then all my worries in the bedroom would cease immediately. I was suitably impressed, although I hastily assured him that I had no need for such an aid. Of course not, he had replied, his arm on my shoulder. Of course not. But, he continued, what's the harm in giving it a stroke from time to time?

I did... and it's still on my windowsill today. Now surely this is a far more valuable present than any bag of money. Surely, I should be held accountable for such a valuable prize? But how do you declare a jade radish to HMRC?

I was in Worthing yesterday. First time ever. I only know Worthing from an episode of 'It's a Knockout' many, many, many years ago and Eddie Waring shouting angrily, through gritted teeth, down a microphone on a windswept and freezing beach: "WELCOME TO SUNNY WORTHING!'

I was there to see a language school and have a chat with an old friend. Now, forget the business stuff and the beery lunch in a delightful pub nearby - which were all very nice. It was as I left and was presented with a small box of chocs that I got thinking about presents again. Of course this was fine. Daft to even question it, I thought, as I sat chomping them happily on a dark train in Victoria station, two hours later, during a power blackout in the rush hour. I think I was the only happy person in the place. Chocs are fine. In fact, chocs are the perfect present. Instantly gratifying and nothing to worry about. And these chocs were really good ones too. Hats off to Michael at CES. Good choice of present. I'll visit again!

So, I have come to the conclusion that if a present is given to you to make you instantly happy and without an ulterior motive, then this is OK. If it's given in a brown bag (crucial point, this) and is pushed under a table to you... then this is not OK and should either be returned immediately... or stowed under your bed for a very long time and used only sparingly from time to time.

Anything which will make an accountant frown is not good. That's the Adrian rule of thumb.

So settle back, pass the chocs and a glass of whisky, while I rub my radish and dream of a thumping night to come.