The Tip Jar Culture: How to Re-Engage and Reignite Your Workforce

By Gregory J Offner

A provocative yet inspirational appeal to change our perspective about "work," in order to disrupt the disengagement plaguing our workplaces.

"Work" isn't working f

• Language: English
• Publisher: Manuscripts LLC
• Release date: Jan 20, 2024
• ISBN: 9798889268673

Book preview

Cover.jpgTitle

Manuscripts

Press

Copyright © 2023 Gregory Offner Jr.

All rights reserved.

The Tip Jar Culture

How to Re-Engage and Reignite Your Workforce

ISBN

979-8-88926-868-0 Paperback

ISBN

979-8-88926-869-7 Hardcover

ISBN

979-8-88926-867-3 Digital Ebook

To Kim.

Without you, this book would not exist.

Contents

Prologue

A Hidden Agenda

Destiny Calling

Until One Day…

One Mouth, Two Ears

Chapter 1.

What Is Engagement, Anyway?

The Tradition of Employee Engagement

La Vie en Rose

But Why Now?

Workin’ for the Weekend

For Whom the Bell Tolls

Creating an Encore Experience

The Potential

Conclusion

Chapter 2.

Disrupting the Industry of Work

Not Enough Hours in a Day

Products, Benefits, and Jobs to be Done

Where’s the Orchestra?

Revolution Starts from Within

Surprise and Delight

Good Jobs and Great Jobs

Conclusion

Chapter 3.

The Three Employee Archetypes: A Framework

Preferences over Personalities

An Audience of Archetypes

A Snapshot in Time

From the Bar Room to the Boardroom

Keepers in the Workplace

Leapers in the Workplace

Sleepers in the Workplace

Putting Ideas into Action: The Three Archetypes

Why do you work here?

What’s something specific about the work you do here that lights you up inside?

Pretend skill isn’t an issue. If you could work for any organization in the world, who would it be?

Conclusion

Chapter 4.

The Tip Jar Culture

Orchestrating Engagement

The Tip Jar Culture

Chapter 5.

Take a Sip: The First Principle

I Learned It by Watching You, Dad

A Social Safety Briefing

Forming and Norming

A Case Study in Norming

Truth in Jest

When Reality Matches Expectations

Behaving Is Believing

Putting Ideas into Action: The First Principle

Conclusion

Chapter 6.

Fill Out a Slip: The Second Principle

Birds of a Feather Flock Together

Trading Tunes for Toonies

The Suggestion Box Is Dead. Long Live Suggestions.

Can’t Do, or Won’t Do?

No Receipt Required

A Case Study in Participation and Connection

One Giant Leap for Work

Discretion Is Advised

Putting Ideas into Action: The Second Principle

Conclusion

Chapter 7.

Leave a Tip: The Third Principle

A Real Problem

Everybody’s Favorite Radio Station

The WIIFM Factor

What Do You Want in Your Tip Jar?

Look What I Made!

The Unicorn

Powerful, Profitable Performance

Taking Ownership Is a Piece of Cake

Out-centives

Putting Ideas into Action: The Third Principle

Conclusion

Chapter 8.

The Burden of Leadership

Sidebar

The Boss

Are You Familiar with Nintendo?

Number Three

Man Overboard or Overpaid?

Mother Knows Best

Conclusion

Chapter 9.

Why Better People Are Better for Business

Follow the Money

Started from the Bottom and Never Left

The Seven Keys of Success

1. Curiosity

2. Drive

3. Energy

4. Focus

5. Gratitude

6. Attitude

7. Belief

Conclusion

Chapter 10.

Root Goal Analysis

What’s the Job of the Job?

Digging Deeper/What People Really Want

Here’s How It Works

Conclusion

Epilogue

What Would You Play?

The Power of Your Voice

A Final Thought

Notes

Appendix A:

The Ghosts of Employers Past

Acknowledgments

Prologue

My heart was pounding so hard I half expected it to beat out of my chest. Spotlights were on me, and despite squinting my eyes, I could not see a thing through the glare. I do not know how they measure adrenaline, but I am sure my levels would have been off the charts. I had put myself in this position and knew there was only one way out.

I began to sing, and as I finished the song, I heard several hundred college students cheering. After surviving two more elimination rounds (the last of which found me performing Missy Elliott’s Work It), five judges unanimously named me the winner of my university’s campus-wide karaoke contest. The sharp cracks of applause from the audience cut through the humid theater like lightning bolts, and I wondered what it would be like to experience moments like this every day. And that was when I decided I did not want to be a music teacher anymore. I wanted to be a performer.

As graduation day approached, and reality set in, I had to confront the fact that earning a full-time living performing music often meant a decision between making rent or making ramen. As I started adding up the monthly payments on my student loan and other obligations, I succumbed to the pressure and took a more practical path. I chose the predictable paycheck a traditional job would offer. After a few weeks of interviews, I landed a job in sales for a large publicly traded corporation. I discovered that performing—albeit in a different sense—was exactly what sales was all about.

Instead of bandmates, I now had colleagues. My performances took place in boardrooms, not theaters. The more value and impact I created for my employer, the more I was treated to professional perks like expense accounts, commissions, and performance-based stock options. All signs pointed toward a life on easy street, and initially, exchanging my dreams for dollars felt like a no brainer.

I can imagine you reading this and feeling like our stories are relatable and even share similarities… except for, maybe, the whole performing Missy Elliott in front of several hundred college students part. I wonder if you would still relate with me when I say, despite things seeming like I had found success in the corporate world, I could not shake the feeling I had given up on doing something I was passionate about; something that would make me feel fulfilled.

A Hidden Agenda

Early on in my corporate career, without telling anyone else, I decided to use my job in sales as a sort of experiment. I was expected to set and conduct anywhere from ten to fifteen sales appointments each week, and the people I met with were usually mid- to senior-level executives. The industry and headcount of the organizations they worked for varied greatly. Most were locally or regionally known brands; however, some were what could be called household names.

The experiment, though highly unscientific, was inspired by my desire to find out whether my ambivalence for work was just a phase. I hoped to find reassurance that once one attained a certain level in an organization, work suddenly became more fulfilling. I needed it to have more meaning, and so I asked one additional question—wholly unrelated to the actual subject of my sales call—to each person I met.

Before launching into the actual sales call itself, I asked the person across from me at each meeting: "I’m just curious, but why did you decide to work for this company?"

I figure over the course of my sales career, I asked that question to over one thousand executives. Had I known I was going into the field of leadership and workforce engagement, I would have kept a spreadsheet of all the answers. Still, the responses I received followed a fascinating—or frightening, depending on your perspective—pattern.

About 25 percent of the time I heard fantastic stories about how they always dreamed of running a business, championing an industry, or climbing the corporate ladder. For some, it was purely a professional gauntlet—a way of continuing their passion for competition. I could see their eyes light up when they spoke about their journey to the C suite and how deeply they cared about the impact their organization allowed them to make on the world and their families.

The remainder of respondents—effectively 75 percent—would give me a deer in the headlights stare followed by a few moments of silence as they processed the question. Then, when it became clear that we would sit in that silence for an eternity until I got an answer, they offered some variation of, There was an open position, I applied, and they hired me.

I could not reconcile the idea that three out of four leaders worked for their current company by happenstance. These were the people with the authority to create jobs, improve working conditions, and make changes in organizations that were capable of changing the world. How was it possible they were so indifferent about their choice of employer?

Destiny Calling

Starting with the day I received my work permit at twelve years old, I tried to find jobs I enjoyed. Some were seasonal, like being a camp counselor or doing landscaping work. Others were strategic odd jobs, like working at the college bookstore because of the healthy discount on textbooks, or the gym I worked at while in university because I got a free membership. I even worked as a promotions assistant at a radio station, thinking I would get to hang out with the DJs. Sadly, that job mostly entailed dressing up as the station mascot (a bee) and attending events like supermarket grand openings and B-movie (pun intended) premieres. I tried so hard to find jobs I enjoyed that by the time I turned thirty I had worked at nearly forty different jobs! Yes, I do have a list, and I have included it in the back of this book.

The longest job I held was seven years, and the shortest was less than two days. The latter was a very fancy restaurant, called Alberto’s Trattoria. It was the kind of place where waiters wore floor length black aprons and dress shirts with a bow tie. The maître d’ screamed at me on my second shift—in front of a customer—for mistakenly calling risotto rice, and I walked out.

While it was easy to walk away from that miserable restaurant, I was not willing to give up on my sales career. At the time, I literally could not afford to give it up, even if I wanted to. So I tried throwing myself deeper into the work, but to no avail. I felt like I was pretending, as if each day I would wake up and step into character—leaving the real me at home while I went off to play the role of employee.

And then one afternoon, with a phone call, everything changed.

A friend from college called and invited me to attend the grand opening of a piano bar in Philadelphia called Cascamorto. She said the owner was her friend’s father, and—in addition to discounted drinks—if I came, I would probably get the chance to play and sing a song or two. We went, we had a blast, and I did play a few songs. Then, exactly two weeks later, I walked back into that piano bar as an employee.

Over the next decade, I would live a double life. Playing the part of a corporate executive by day and then literally playing the piano at night. The juxtaposition of those lives was both frustrating and fascinating. When it came to my day job, the only day I looked forward to more than payday were the days I got to take time off. Alternatively, I looked forward to my shifts at the piano bar—even trying to pick up extra shifts whenever another player was unable to make it in. Each night offered the opportunity to deliver a performance that moved (literally and figuratively) people. I loved watching their eyes and smiles light up when they heard their song request being played. At the end of the night, they would always cheer, One more song! One more song! And even though my shift was technically over, I would keep playing. I almost always left feeling energized.

Until One Day…

In 2015, just as I was beginning to sing the first song of the night at a piano bar, my voice suddenly gave out. I tried several tricks to coax my voice back into compliance, but nothing worked. I am not a religious man, but that night I went home and prayed. I prayed harder than all the priests and clerics have ever prayed. I bargained and promised, and still my voice had not returned even after two weeks. I remembered all the admonitions I had received over the years from vocal coaches: stop smoking, stop yelling at loud bars all night, stop drinking so much while you sing. I thought, Well, shit. I probably should’ve listened.

After two days at an ENT (ear nose and throat) facility, being poked and prodded by a cadre of medical professionals, it was determined that my vocal cords were partially paralyzed. This was due to a series of nodules, cysts and polyps covering my vocal cords. Nodules alone can spell the end of a singer’s career, let alone adding cysts and polyps to the mix.

Adding fuel to the proverbial dumpster fire of vocal cord damage was severe, untreated reflux. When delivering his diagnosis, the doctor added, Considering how extensive the damage is, you have anywhere from two weeks to two months before the paralysis becomes permanent…

The doctor was still talking, but the word permanent reverberated in my ears like a jackhammer, and I could not hear anything else. I remember looking out the window, at the cityscape, and feeling a tear descend from beneath my glasses. I tried visualizing piano bars I had worked at, but I could no longer see myself as the person behind the keys, in front of the