8 posts tagged “work”
Over the years one of my responsiblities at the office has kept me in fairly constant contact withour 250+ person national sales force. Most of that contact is via the phone and email. Now and then, I work an event or attend a meeting and interact with them live and in person. Now, if you've ever worked with salesmen, you know that most of them possess that certain strand of DNA which compels them to try to charm their way into your good graces. Even if they don't need anything from you at this moment in time, the day will come when they will need something from you, so the groundwork never stops being laid. I call them the "charming schemers."
Years back, I had one salesperson* that, whenever he had to mail me something, (usually every 3-4 months), he'd slip in a dollar bill with a note that said, "Your bagel's on me!" Which, I'll admit - out of the 200+ sales force - I knew that guy's name, phone and might actually go above and beyond my usual herculean efforts (yeah. I said it.) to help a brotha out. Yes. The 20-something version of me could be bought...and my going rate was the cost of a bagel. I'm not ashamed. I love carbs.
Most of them though, try to get by on their charm and sweet-talking abilities alone. "How are you?!! How are things in Chicago? How is [insert one personal peice of information they've stored on me and ask me the same irrelevant question over and over for years and years.]? Still, while I'm rarely swayed by said charm, I do prefer it to the small percentage of the other kind of sales person. The "irate shitwagons."
Those are the guys (and they are always men) that call you up, all business at first, and within two minutes are either screaming at you or screaming and threatening that they'll lose the customer/business if you don't cut the fucking red wire in five seconds! No. WAIT. The BLUE wire! Goddammit! CUT THE WIRE!!!
One thing I've learned is that no matter which umbrella they fall under, it's good to keep all the sales folk at arm's length. I'm here to make their work as smooth, seamless and productive as possible, but I'm also not a doormat nor their personal assistant. Basically, I keep my cool (at least until I'm off the phone) and try to put the fire out as quickly and painlessly as possible.
Last week, I completely blew my granite facade. One of the newer salesmen was at the office - I've worked a couple events with him. He's one of those guys who always greets folks with a hug (file under friendly and not creepy.) Which is fine. Hugging doesn't scare me...although, at our office, it's a little odd. But, whatever. Anyway, it was near the end of the day, I was walking around another dept, trying to get a signature that I needed a week ago and trying to deal with a situation that was about to blow into 3-alarm fire. I turned the corner and ran smack into Sales Guy.
- Heeeeeeeeeey.
- Hey. How are you? (looking around, trying to suss out which cubicle is the one I'm searching for)
- How ya been? (arms extended walking toward me)
- Good. Busy. Same old. (sighs and goes in for the quick hug)
- Good to see you! (while hugging)
- Yeah. You too. (hug complete.) Man. You smell good. (beat) Uh, see ya. (walks away with purpose.)
I have to say, I've been at this job for a loooong time. I've said plenty of quasi-inappropriate things. And while I didn't mean for that comment to come off as inappropriate (the dude smelled amazingly good), I was just giving my honest reaction. He smelled good. I didn't say it in any kind of creepy way (I don't think), but a day or so later, it occurs to me that, really, telling someone that you have a working relationship with that they smell good is automatically Creepy. No two ways about it.
So, I've officially become that guy at the office. The creepy guy. Who tells you when you smell good.
Sigh. Just don't let me become the guy who makes...horrible puns. I would have to eat a .357, if that happened. Dude. I can live with being creepy. I can't live with...puns.
The horror.
*This salesperson was promoted some years ago...he doesn't send me bagel money anymore. Still, I appreciate the former effort.
Here's a little day-in-my-worklife moment for ye. Please enjoy this email re-wind...
Sales Account Manager: Do we have PDF's of our current full line catalog?
Me: Indeed, we have. Would you like me to send you a copy - or direct to a customer?
SAM: Please send it along to me. Thanks very much for your immediate attention.
Me: Will do.
a few minutes pass...it's probably important to note that our full line catalog is nearly 250 pages. So...it's pretty freaking big.
SAM: May I ask if that is on a disc?
I'm looking at the screen and realising that my bulwark of appropriate responses has just been shattered due to the fact that Daylight Savings Time has totally screwed up my sleep patterns and that I'm about to throw down with some jabby comment...
Me: Actually, it's in a book of crayon drawings that we hired a 3 year old to work on. Turned out pretty good...if you're into fridge art. .... Yes. They are on a CD. Most pdf files this size are usually stored on disc...we tried storing them in pickle jars, but it didn't quite work out.
SAM: Very Funny!!!! I like the humor. Thanks again for all your help. .... Please send 2 CD's if you don't have to worry about the child labor laws.
sigh
Me: Two - can do. ... Those kids never complain anyway. They know they'll get "what for" if they do.
The truth of it is that I almost didn't send my retort...ours is not a jovial workplace. I work for Germans and the hammer comes down hard whenever you show a sense of self or a moment of humor that is outside the approved guidelines. For example, we've had the same guy in a gorilla suit come and sing Happy Birthday to enough people that it feels tangibly uncomfortable to gather and dutifully listen to the same corny (and poorly written) ape jokes.
This also reminds me of the time that, years back, one of the sales guys repeatedly would call me at the 11th hour for materials that I'd have to overnight (and pay for out of my budget) because he was a horrible planner. One day, in the midst of my rock-and-a-hard-place frustration, to teach him a lesson, I sent him the order addressed as such:
JOHN THE RAT BASTARD SMITH
1234 MAIN ST
ANYWHERE USA
All I'm saying is that you never know when you might wake the sleeping bear. I try to keep her dozing during office hours, but with Spring coming, she's waking up cranky and hungry.
Yesterday, I was part of the "pre" set-up team at our trade show. I toted many a barge and have the bruises to prove it. It's a known fact that I bruise like a peach. Half the time, I don't remember what I banged into, but the end results is a black and blue and green and yellow mark that looks like I've suffered through The Inquisition.
Today, the bruises showed up on my inner forearms. My right arm has so many bruises (and oddly enough, all lined up in a near perfect row) that I marveled at them today. I was so impressed by them (and trust me, I've had a calvalcade of contusions, so it takes something to raise my eyebrow), I turned to one of my co-workers and said, "Man. These bruises look like track marks - like I'm a junkie who couldn't find a vein."
And, I'm pretty sure I repeated it to more than one other co-worker. That's 1) how impressed I was that they really looked like track marks, and 2) how much I delight in these things that I want to share them with folks!
Now, I know that sometimes, you shouldn't say the things that come into your head. Especially in a work setting. The words "junkie" and "track marks" are a bit more than most people want to absorb and react to...on a showroom floor.
Sometimes, even the square peg has a moment of clarity.
For those tracking it....I didn't get the job.
It's all good. The guy they hired really has waaaay more experience in the one area of the position that I really have .08945% experience with, so if I was the director, I'd hire him too. The positive is that I had a really good talk with the director (who seems to see and appreciate my contributions - trust me, I know lip service and this wasn't it.)
He sees that I want to move up and as a department, can now officially start "grooming" me for bigger and better opportunities (ok, that was a little lip-servicey, since in this economy, we're not expanding to create new roles or anything.) Ultimately, this means that I'll probably take on more responsibility and have more interaction in those arenas I need it...ultimately, giving me a better looking resume.
So, let's focus on that and C'est la vie the rest.
When you work in an industry that's tied directly to the housing market and your economy is in a slump, the mood at the office can be...dour. But, today was like Christmas, as I've been passing out very lovely Land's End dress shirts for an upcoming show, to about 40+ people. These are the creme de la creme of business attire in our workplace. Very few folks get these and they are pretty sweet as business apparel goes. Plus, (even though the company pays for them) they are "free" to the folks who receive them...and who doesn't like free crap?!!
Thus, as I careen through the cubicals with a cart borrowed from the mailroom overloaded with shirts - I'm stopped by folks who aren't going to the show (thusly aren't getting shirts) to see if I have any "extra." I'm also dealing with men who are seemingly more vain than the few women I've dealt with. My favorite was when one gent was concerned that he was receiving the wrong size. I offered up the few went in and out of the bathroom and over to my cube for an impromptu fashion show - three times.
The last shirt he put on, was the original shirt I had ordered for him. He walked into my cube asking me what I thought. "It looks pretty good. The sleeves are the right length. How does it feel?"
I think it's good from the front, but I'm concerned about the back," as he turns to show me his backside. I can't quite turn away as he continues tugging at the shirt where he tucked it in at the back and says, "It seems overly puffy, here."
I just watched a grown man, primp himself in front of me like a 15 year old girl desparately trying to find a prom dress.
Normally, I'm a desk jockey, but yesterday I worked in our storage warehouse lugging boxes of catalogs and whatnot (I calculated, in the first 30 minutes I was there, I moved over 600 pounds of material...which is 600 pounds more than I move...EVER.) So, I'm a bit sore and today and I wore the bad heels that pinch a bit, so my dogs are barking something fierce and I've used up all of my sunshine, fending off the jackels while spinning plates overhead.
One of my co-workers - an extremely likeable lass about to have her first baby- came over to get some info from me and when we had concluded our bidness, I asked her to remind me when she was due. Baby's entrance is set for March and with that, she asked if I wanted to feel him squirmming about. The kid was really moving around, as my hand witnessed some appendage graze her belly.
I asked her if his wrasslin' about ever gets uncomforable. Her response, and let me tell you, this is a fairly prim and proper miss, was this: "Only when he starts banging his fists on my va-jay-jay."
My friends, if that doesn't put a smile on your face, I have nothing to offer you here.
It is true that I am known to trend towards the hyperbolic. It is true that I use the words awesome, brilliant, fantastic and crazy delicious with irritating abandon. But, truth be told, I rarely drop the word genius. I save that word for special moments such as this:
Co-worker A is getting married. [insert strong Chicago accent] While he loves his lady, he could care less if they ever got hitched, as he's one of those blue-collar guys who just wants the Cubs to win and the Bears to pull Rex Grossman out of the frickin' game, already. If you ask him about the wedding, he gets all, "WHATever." He's just showing up, eating his steak and hitting the open bar. He's a guy's guy. And really, getting married isn't gonna change anything.[end accent.]
Except his cube.
Co-worker B created this majestic sight after Co-worker A left for the day. A cube literally spewing a LOVE IS cartoon. It's brilliant. It's fantastic to behold in person. Think about a person you know who would HATE walking into their cube this way. Multiply that by 264 and you've got Co-worker A. It's a great prank, done out of love.
Did I mention that one of these cartoons will show up in interoffice mail in a few days? There is nothing in this world that I love more than a well-played muthascrathin' callback.
Of course, Co-worker B (who's gone for the rest of the week) knows that A will retaliate. This is the price we pay for erecting the hawsome. Of course, he'll really have to knuckle down if he wants to out-do this work of art. Bar. Raised.
Call me crazy, but I feel like, outside of my trade show travels, the rest of my life has been put in some kind of suspended animation. I know it's out there. I just haven't seen it in action or with my own two eyes for a few weeks. It's an Twilight Zone-ish feeling. Like I'm on a flight that keeps getting delayed. Forever.
I'm really ready for my month of non-stop travel to be done. Yeah...it's really just three weeks. Yeah...it's really four out of five days. Yeah...I've been home on the weekends. But when you spend that weekend holed up, sleeping off a delayed flight and doing laundry to prep for your next trip? Not so much of a weekend.
This week is my last trip (for a month) and I was hopeful that my final tour of duty would be a bit more relaxing, an easy drive up and back to Madison. Madtown. A place of infinite happy memories and yummy beer. Instead, due to budget issues, it's probably going to be the most stressful and annoying travel wise. I thought I was driving up to Madison on Tuesday morning. Now I'm in the office most of the day and driving up afterwards. I thought I was driving home on Friday (and taking a half day off...which, honestly, I think is appropriate considering all the extended hours put in on planes and whatnot recently.) But now, after working an outdoor event, I get to drive back to Chicago Thursday...in rush hour traffic.
Tuesday - Office most of the day, pick up rental at O'Hare, Drive up to Madison.
Wednesday - Outdoor Event
Thursday - Outdoor Event, Drive back to Chicago and hit rush hour, Drop off rental at O'Hare, Drive back to city in rush hour.
Plus, I'm now expected to be in the office on Friday. Methinks I might be taking Friday off. I've been so MIA lately, that I've gotten calls from more than a few folks checking in to make sure I'm hunky-dory. Overall, I'm hunky, not so much dory. I've been canceling plans right and left. I've yet to even see either of the show my theater company's produced recently. Even today, after cashing out yesterday, I have no energy to go see the show (it's downtown and the Bears are playing today...I could NOT handle the CTA throngs or traffic), go catch a flick (I've been dying to see 3:10 To Yuma), or even go to a local bar and watch the Cubs play the Cards today (Go Cubbies!)
After walking Olive and a brief trip to the grocery store this AM, I'm wiped. I'm in a weird space were I'm not tired enough to sleep anymore, but I'm too tired to socialize. At the very least, I should clean my house some...hmmm...perhaps another nap isn't such a crazy idea....of course...I'm just delaying the inevitable, I suppose.
Hmmm. Maybe taking Friday off and holing up at a double feature of The Brave One and Shoot 'Em Up is just what the doctor ordered...
Perhaps my chi is out of alignment. Hmmm. All I know is that I've felt off-center for a week or thereabouts. Odd things happening recently. Instances where I ignored my spidey senses and paid for it. Nothing horrible per se, just weird things that in accumulation, have put me off my feed, so to speak. Except, the opposite where the feed part comes into play.
Anyway, I've decided that today, I will turn my kharma around and regain some balance. Breathe deep. Slow down. Basically hit the reset button in my brain, lose all the spam that's been floating in there and shake off this raincloud of strange.
Seems the universe agrees with me. I just received this meeting notice from the new boss:
Important OFFSITE meeting
Location: TBD
Time: Friday August 31st, Noon - 5pm
Please schedule an offsite meeting with yourself.
Please make certain you have the following:
- No laptop computer
- No work related paperwork
- A cell phone with a "low battery" warning
- Must be at least 1 mile from [location of our office]
Please have a summary of the meeting prepared by September 5, 2011.
What do you know? This new boss might work out just fine.
