My transplant doc says I’m "a genuinely nice person"

See here. And I know what you’re thinking: Steve? A “nice person”? Really? To be honest, I kind of grimaced when I read that too. You know what it does to you out here if people start thinking you’re a “nice person”? Ever tried negotiating with music industry people, or Chinese manufacturing partners? Trust me, you don’t want those guys thinking you have even a tiny slice of nice in you. But yeah. I was nice to the doc. It’s an act, obviously. I use it sometimes, like when I’m trying to hire someone away from a rival company. In this case it was even more important, because think about it. The man has a very sharp knife, and he’s about to cut you open with it. He’s going to take out one of your organs. You’re going to be lying there on a table, with your guts ripped open, and he’s the only one who can keep you alive. So, as much as it bothers you — as much as you hate to do it — you suck it up and put on the fake smile and ask him how his weekend was. You get Katie to memorize the names of his wife and kids, and she makes you a little cheat sheet you can pull up on your iPhone when you’re in his office, and you make sure you ask about them. That kind of stuff. Good news is, it’s over now, and I’m back to being myself. Why just yesterday I fired a woman for walking around wearing white pants with a black thong. She wasn’t even an Apple employee! She was just walking down the street in Palo Alto. God that felt good.