Back in Africa at the dawn of the Homo Sapien (or--for those inclined to distrust the tenets of evolution and hold firm to the "spontaneous generation" concept of Genesis--back in Danbury, Connecticut circa 1940), man had taken that great, defining leap forward. Simple hand gestures were exchanged for precise vocalization (to state more or less the same thing, "Mine!"). Nomadic tribes utilized fire as the center of communal living (eventually replacing it with a Costco). The advent of bipedalism freed arms to hold weapons and hands to enhance foreplay. But most important of all—at least according to the academic consultants of a little docudrama known as "The Flintstones"—small flightless fowl and easily cajoled lizards found renewed purpose as can openers, garbage disposals, turntable needles and—depending on one’s socio-economic level—olive spears for martinis.

Surely this was a new golden age, though one that shined far less brightly for the now wildlife working-class. While Stone Age man blissfully opened his Chef Boy-R-Dee cans, danced to The Lovin’ Rockful and prepared mixed drinks with abandon, the poor animals toiled away with nary a word of encouragement or acknowledgement. On more than one occasion, these overworked, underpraised beasts of burden could be seen alone in a corner, their shoulders (or what have you) slumped, their eyelids heavy with exhaustion and despair, each barely possessing the energy to sigh a feeble, mournful, "It’s a living." Think Kurt Cobain at Nirvana’s final "MTV Unplugged" performance, only with more feathers or some sort of prehensile tail. Clearly these poor creatures were on the very precipice of self-destruction, with no one to pull them back with a kind word, a hearty "good job" or even a nice "Thanks a Bunch" bouquet from the helpful folks of FTD.

The hard lesson? Always make sure to show your coworkers, your staff, even your supervisors gratitude, for the life you save may be your own assistant’s. But how does one effectively compliment a fellow employee without seeming phony or fatuous? Before you open your mouth, listen to the following words of advice:

• Don’t lie: False compliments are far too transparent. The role of a compliment is not to win the favor of a coworker. That’s the role of a gift. So bring presents often and of increasing value to your target. Of course, the kind of gift depends entirely on how discerning his or her tastes may be. If they frequent Henri Bendel with such alarming regularity that they oh-so-playfully refer to it as "Hank’s" then it might be time to cash out what remains of your 401k. If, however, upon hearing the word "Cartier" they think he was either the guy who lost to Ronald Reagan in 1980 or how "Boom Boom" Washington used to pronounce "Kotter," then break out the pen ‘cause it’s time to start circling the Lillian Vernon catalogue. And if you’re feeling rather expansive, go ahead and spend the few bucks more to monogram that duck-shaped trivet. They’ll know you cared.
  
  
• Don’t delay: Much like an English degree or any movie tagline that contains the phrase "and starring Val Kilmer," a compliment’s value quickly fades over time. After all, no good will come of telling your supervisor, "You know, sir, I’ve been thinking and you’re right. McGovern should be president." (No sense will come of it either, since when was the last time a high-ranking business executive voted Democrat?). Instead, should your boss says something particularly insightful in a meeting—or simply cough in a manner you find pleasing to the ear—immediately jump up, slam your fist on the conference table and shout, "My God, man, that was brilliant! You, sir, truly are a king among men!"
  
  
• Don’t compare: A compliment loses its potency when you compare it with another achievement…unless, of course, that other achievement is so grand that drawing parallels can only enhance your point. In other words, don’t tell your coworker, "Your giving nature rivals only mine." Say, "Your giving nature makes Mother Theresa look like Pol Pot."
  
  
• Don’t be an asshole: It might seem obvious to state, but irony, sarcasm and any sentence that ends with the phrase "who knew?" do not a compliment make. So when attempting to lift the spirits, do not drop the ball by uttering any of the following remarks:
  
  
  • "To say I’m completely shocked is putting it mildly."
    
    
  • "Guess I lost that bet."
    
    
  • "Well, you give a monkey enough time and paper and he’s bound to type out a Shakespeare play so this wasn’t exactly beyond the realm of possibility."

One more thing: should you ever find yourself on the receiving end of a compliment, never make the mistake of responding in a humble or self-deprecating manner. Instead, look the person straight in the eye and answer, "Good? What the hell’s your problem?! That was great! Jesus, when God was handing out brains where were you, on the free cheese line?! I don’t think I’ve ever met such an idiot outside of a Creed concert!" After all, a simple "thank you" is just far too impersonal.