The Butter King of Bay 3

At Patel & Sons Pvt. Ltd., seated proudly in Bay 3, was a man who could charm even a stone with flattery — Ramesh Menon, junior executive, senior specialist in Boss Management.

He wasn’t particularly skilled in Excel, struggled with email attachments, and cannot handle a computer mouse properly. But what he did have was the smoothest tongue in the western hemisphere of the office. His job title should have read — “Advanced Flattery Techniques with a Bachelor in Butter-Coated Psychology.”

Every day, as a routine, Ramesh would land at his manager’s door before the AC even kicked in.

“Good morning, sir! You’re looking like a Bollywood hero today — very Hrithik meets Ranbir!”

His boss, Mr. Bhargava — with glasses, and a close resemblance to Hera Pheri’s Baburao Ganpatrao Apte — would blush like a bride.
“Oh come on, Ramesh…” he’d say, secretly adjusting his tie.

Ramesh didn’t stop there.

• When Bhargava got a haircut: “Sir, this cut should be made illegal. Too handsome.”
• When Bhargava cracked a dry joke: “Sir, you missed your calling — Netflix should make a stand-up special for you.”
• When Bhargava simply entered the room: “Sir, the vibe just changed. The room feels wiser now.”

Soon, others noticed. A few junior staff tried mimicking him.

One guy said, “Nice tie, sir!”
Bhargava replied, “Thanks. Got it in 2003.”

Flattery failed… unless it was from Ramesh.

Rumors spread. People whispered that Ramesh was aiming for a promotion. Someone even said he gifted Bhargava a personalized coffee mug that said: “World’s Most Visionary Manager (Even Without Glasses).”

Then came appraisal week — the corporate equivalent of Judgment Day.

Everyone was tense. People prepared spreadsheets, performance summaries, and even spoke in words like “synergy” and “value-add.”

But Ramesh? He walked into his review like he was entering a family function.
“Sir, before we begin — you look even younger in fluorescent light. Incredible.”

Bhargava smiled, gestured for him to sit, and pulled up Ramesh’s file.

“Ramesh,” he said, “you’re a delight to have around. You spread positivity. And cholesterol. But… let’s talk performance.”

Ramesh nodded, still confident. Surely charm counts for something?

Bhargava continued, “You’ve missed five deadlines, sent four blank emails, and once booked a Zoom meeting for 2 a.m. But you’ve complimented me 84 times this quarter. That’s… impressive. But not productive.”

Ramesh’s face fell.

Then came the blow:
“You’re getting the standard hike. Nothing extra. Maybe next year, bring fewer compliments and more completed projects.”

Stunned, Ramesh muttered, “But sir, I thought you liked it.”

Bhargava smiled gently and said,
“I like butter on toast, Ramesh. Not all over my inbox.”

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An Utterly Butterly Delicious Moral:

“Too much butter makes even the best bread soggy — and bosses aren’t toast.”

Flattery is like chutney. A little on the side? Delicious. Pour the whole jar? Now it’s a sticky mess no one wants on their plate.

Sure, telling your boss “Even the mirror is jealous of you today” might get you a polite smile. But do it every morning, and HR might schedule you for a mental wellness check.

Let’s face it — we’ve all met a Ramesh. The guy who thinks promotions are granted based on the number of compliments per hour. His strategy? Replace effort with endless praise. His motto? “When in doubt, butter it out.”

But here’s the thing:
When appraisal season comes, your boss isn’t going to read through a “Top 100 Compliments from Ramesh” book.
They’re pulling out spreadsheets, and project reports.
And that’s when reality hits harder.

So yes, appreciation is powerful. A sincere compliment can build goodwill faster than coffee machines on a Monday morning. But overdo it, and people will assume you’re buttering up.

Praise when it’s earned.
Season your words, don’t overdo them.
Deliver actual work, not just verbal butter.

Because while butter might help you slide into conversations…
it won’t help you climb the corporate ladder.

And let’s be honest—If your only talent is flattery, your career path might lead straight to a mirror shop where the job description reads: ‘Tell every customer they look like a celebrity and mean it.