‘Adquirio.’ What a laugh, that name. Sounds like we were supposed to be getting something, right? Like, acquiring some grand new thing.
Well, we did get something. A whole lot of trouble, mostly.
They told us ‘adquirio’ was this big project. To bring in a new system. Streamline everything. Make us all super efficient. That was the talk from the big bosses, anyway. PowerPoints and all that jazz.
But from the get-go, it was a joke. Seriously. The ‘adquirio’ team, they were like some kind of secret society. Holed up in their corner. Didn’t talk to the rest of us who actually had to, you know, use the stuff they were building. Or, acquiring, I guess they called it.
It reminded me of that time they decided to ‘acquire’ that super fancy, expensive scheduling software for the meeting rooms. Cost a fortune. Supposed to make booking rooms a breeze. Yeah, right. Nobody could figure the darn thing out. We all just went back to yelling across the office, “Hey, is the big conference room free?” That software just sat there, unused, probably costing us money every month. ‘Adquirio’ felt just like that, only bigger, and way, way more expensive.
So this ‘adquirio’ thing, this system they bought. Paid an absolute fortune for it, I heard. And the consultants! Oh man, don’t even get me started on the consultants. They swarmed the place like locusts. Talked a good game, full of buzzwords. But when it came to actually making ‘adquirio’ work with our old, reliable systems? Forget about it.
It was like trying to teach a fish to ride a bicycle. Just wasn’t gonna happen, no matter how much they insisted. Our data was fine. It had been working perfectly for years. But ‘adquirio’ needed it in some bizarre, twisted format that made no sense. And did they plan for this massive data migration headache? Nope. Not a chance.
I was on the grunt team. You know, the poor folks who had to try and shoehorn our perfectly good customer data into this ‘adquirio’ monster. It meant late nights, fueled by stale coffee and cold pizza. The ‘adquirio’ project managers, the ones in the sharp suits, would just pop their heads in, ask “How’s it all going?” with a big fake smile, and then vanish before you could even begin to explain that it was a complete and utter disaster.
You know why these things happen, right? Someone high up gets a bright idea. Maybe they read an article in some fancy business magazine. Or they see a competitor doing something shiny. And suddenly, we have to ‘acquire’ it. No real thought about if we actually need it. Or if it even fits with how we work. Just gotta have the new, expensive toy.
I distinctly remember this one particular Tuesday. We’d been battling this thing for like, 16 hours straight. Just trying to untangle the mess they’d made. The main ‘adquirio’ guy, one of those super expensive consultants, he strolls in, looking fresh as a daisy. Looks at our tired, haggard faces. And says, and I am not kidding you, “Just make it work, folks. It’s not exactly rocket science, is it?” I nearly threw my keyboard right at his smug face.
That was pretty much the moment for me. Not just with ‘adquirio,’ but with the whole damn company, really. All flash, no substance. They were absolutely brilliant at acquiring things. New software. New buzzwords. New Vice Presidents. They just weren’t very good at making any of it actually, you know, function in the real world.
So, yeah, ‘adquirio’ eventually “launched.” If you can call what happened a launch. It was more like a controlled demolition. The sales team couldn’t access their leads. Support tickets vanished into a black hole. It was pure, unadulterated chaos. But hey, the project was officially “delivered.” Someone got to tick a box on their performance review, I guess.
Me? I’d had more than enough by then. That “it’s not rocket science” comment, it just kept replaying in my head. Like, seriously? You guys pay these clowns millions for this ‘adquirio’ system, it doesn’t work, you blame us for it, and then you have the nerve to act like we’re the idiots? Nah. I started putting out feelers for a new job, very quietly. Didn’t even bother telling my boss at that point. What was the use? He was probably looking for an escape route too.
It’s kind of funny, actually. About two months after the great ‘adquirio’ meltdown, when things were still a total shambles, my old manager from a previous job called me completely out of the blue. Said they had an interesting opening. A place where they actually built things that made sense, built them carefully and thoughtfully. Less ‘acquiring’ of random shiny objects, more actual productive doing. I ended up interviewing on my lunch breaks for a week. Got the offer. I handed in my notice the very next Monday. The look on my then-manager’s face when I told him I was leaving, and that the ‘adquirio’ disaster was the last straw – it was priceless. He just nodded slowly, like he completely understood. Probably wished he could leave too.
I heard later, through the office grapevine, that they never really got ‘adquirio’ to work properly. Just kept throwing more good money after bad, mostly at more consultants. And guess what? They actually started a brand new project, to ‘acquire’ another system. This new system was supposed to integrate with ‘adquirio’ to somehow make it usable. You just can’t make this stuff up, can you? Some companies just seem to love the chase, I guess. The thrill of the acquisition. Not so much the boring reality of making things work.
So that’s my little story with ‘adquirio.’ A hard lesson learned, as they usually are. Now I’m somewhere much more sane. Well, mostly sane, anyway.
