the skies may be friendly, but the ground...not so much

I arrived in Minneapolis with my co-worker Cara - The same Cara who considers herself to have all the answers and who I generally dislike. I didn't have high hopes for the week.

These hopes plummeted even further when, that very Sunday evening, I tripped and took a spectacular fall...a definite 9 on a scale of 10 in the Olympics of falling. Unfortunately, as a result of my medal winning clumsiness, I was left with a severely battered looking face...a huge knot on my forehead, which would turn a sickly yellow-greenish hue by mid-week, and a chewing gum strip of lost skin running straight down the bridge of my nose.

On the bright side, however, Cara and I actually started hitting it off. Perhaps because we were in a strange city and knew nobody else or perhaps because we didn't have the whole 'work' thing to drive a wedge between us, I actually thought that perhaps some type of friendship would result. Even her abundant use of the phrases, "totally!", "that's awesome, man!" and "that's cool, man!" which usually made me cringe, weren’t even bothering me as much.

This glorious budding friendship lasted all the way through Tuesday night...two whole days. It was at this point when, after dinner, Cara returned to her typical Cara-ness.

"You know, man," she began, "I totally got you your job. Vince (our boss) brought me your resume to look over and asked what I thought...and I knew when I saw it that it was total bullshit, man. But I thought, 'you know, he seems okay', so I told Vince to hire you."

"Gee, thanks...I guess," I said. Because what, exactly, are you supposed to say to someone who lays claim to getting you your job. 'Great! Now that you're done with me, you can continue working on that cure for cancer and end to world hunger' perhaps. "My resume wasn't total bullshit, however...though, I admit, I lumped all my teaching experience together."

"I totally know that, man! I completely saw through what you were trying to do. That other lady who was up for the job had way more experience than you...but she had a limp. I think that's why Vince didn't hire her."

"Yeah, those limpers...what slackers they are."

She didn't appear to be listening, though. Once revved up, her mouth flows quite freely.
"And Vince is totally screwing me! He's always riding my ass! He never does that to you! I haven't even seen one commission check!" she fumed.

"Cara, you didn't sell anything all through August."

"Whatever...it's bullshit, man! Total bullshit! I'm so talking to Trudy (the district manager) and telling her about what Vince is doing to us!"

And out of all her manic ranting, that one word sent shivers down my spine...'us'. Because, while I agree that some things aren't ideal at the job, I also realize that no job is perfect. Besides, I tend to enjoy getting paychecks.

"Look, leave me out of this. Don't mention my name to Trudy or to Vince."

"I can't believe you! Well you may be alright with letting people screw you over, but I have balls, man! I'm telling Trudy everything that I think Vince is doing wrong...I think she'll be very interested. Besides, that thing I said in class today, Trudy told me that she wants to talk to me about using it in a marketing campaign."

"What thing was that?" I asked.

"You know, when I said that thing about ‘No School Left Behind’ playing off of the whole ‘No Child Left Behind’ thing. She loved it! I think they're going to offer me a job as a marketing manager. See, I've got ambition...you don't. You may be happy with a lowly job, but I have so much more potential than that. Well, I'm telling her all about Vince, and we'll just see who screws who!"

I simply stared at her, much the same way as you would stare at a train rapidly approaching a brick wall. You know what the end result will be, but are completely unable to stop the train from the impending impact. All you can do is sit back, watch, and pray that no shrapnel comes flying your way.

Because, while Trudy is a nice enough lady, there’s no way she’s going to side with Cara, who had been working for the company for less than six months, over Vince, the dealer who has been selling their product line for over 20 years.

I’m not even sure what Cara is hoping to achieve. Even if Trudy did take her side, the best case scenario is that the company would yank Vince’s right to be the exclusive dealer for their product and we'd both be out of a job.

As is the case with all train wrecks, nothing good is going to come from this one. And I have a sinking feeling that I'm going to get flattened in the process.

the friendly skies

This past week was spent in Minnesota as a part of my 'new job' training. In my past jobs, I was corralled as a simple office monkey, never straying far from my cubicle or desk. For the first time in my multitude of jobs, I was scheduled to ship out to another city. And for the first time in 30 years, I flew.

I was four the last time I stepped foot onto a plane, headed to Boston with my parents to attend my Uncle's wedding. And while I don't remember much of the flight, I do recall that it was a positive experience, because as I stepped off the plane, the stewardess handed me a little plastic 'airline pilot' pin...a pin which I proudly wore all weekend, clear through the rehearsal dinner, wedding ceremony, and reception.

Air flight has changed since then, which I quickly found as my shaving cream and toothpaste were confiscated at the security terminal…though for some odd reason I was allowed to keep my razor. Once stripped of these things, I was declared 'safe'...I could slice someone with a razor blade but terrorist activities like soaping windows wouldn’t occur.

Shortly after my shaving and tooth brushing privileges were revoked, I was on the plane and in the air. It was smooth sailing until about an hour into the flight when the 'fasten seatbelts' sign lit up and the captain announced that we were entering into some turbulence.

"Just speed-bumps in the sky," I overheard a mother tell her screaming child, who, coincidentally, was sitting directly behind my seat. Unfortunately, the reassurance didn’t seem to work. The screaming continued.

The guy sitting next to me shifted in his seat and tried to settle in for a nap despite the turmoil behind us and the turbulence around us. Opening one eye, he glanced up at me and said, "Don't bother waking me if the plane goes down."

Deciding that I wasn't particularly fond of airline comedians, I answered, "what...and let you miss out on all the fun?"

And as the plane jostled and bounced through the air, for a brief moment I actually thought that perhaps we might go crashing down. And, for a few minutes at 34,000 feet above ground, I wondered if this flight might end up like a real life version of Lost (Wednesday nights at 9:00, this Fall on ABC).

I was pretty sure no undiscovered islands existed between Pennsylvania and Minnesota, though perhaps some little isle in one of the Great Lakes had escaped detection. In the end, it didn’t matter. The plane didn’t crash. The quest for undiscovered land masses in the Great Lakes continue…and the screaming from the kid behind me continued as well, all the way to Minneapolis.

When we finally landed, the two hour flight seemed to have lasted weeks and proved to be nowhere as positive as my first flight 30 years earlier. Especially considering that, as I stepped off the plane, no little plastic pilot airline wings pin was given to me this time around.

co-workers are best when they're not around

Historically speaking, I haven’t had much luck with the whole ‘job’ and ‘career’ thing. Whether it’s the people I work with, the person I work for, or the job itself, at some point I become disillusioned and disinterested. From here, things go rapidly downhill, culminating in my departure. The only variable in this equation is whether my departure is my idea or theirs.

With this goal in mind, I plan on making a true effort in liking my co-workers, not hating my boss, and putting an end to all office related complaints.

This is proving to be more difficult than I imagined.

Take Cara, for example…the other sales rep at the company. She’s making it very hard to keep me from keeping with my ‘like your co-workers’ part of the plan. In truth, I desperately want to throw a stapler at her head. She started about a month before I did, having never sold anything before. Yet, apparently, having a start date 45 days prior to mine, entitles her to dispense advice freely.

“You’re not adding enough ‘sizzle’ to your phone calls, listen to me and you’ll see how it’s done,” she says.

“You would sell more if you developed more of a repartee with the customer, like I do. That’s why I was the top salesperson for the month of July,” she says.

“I used to make the same mistake that you’re making, but now I only call quality prospects,” she says.

“What’s a quality prospect? Isn’t a sale a sale? How in the world do you know who’s going to buy before you call them?” I asked her.

“You just don’t get it,” she replied.

And apparently I don’t. But, at the same time, while her sales totals were high in July, her sales totals for August were zero. That’s ‘zero’ as in nothing.

She has explained this massive drop in productivity in several different ways.

“I’ve been feeling sick,” she says.

“Clearly, companies just don’t have the free cash that they had last month to purchase things,” she says.

“We need a better marketing strategy than the one we currently have…that’s the problem! I have some great ideas to share with the boss that will totally increase my sales!” she says.

Her ideas, the best of which consisted of putting our company’s phone number on pens and passing them out to potential customers, have all been shot down by the boss.

Last week, I found her moping at her desk. I just don’t feel like making any sales calls today, she said. People tell me ‘no’, and I just can’t seem to pick myself back up. Later that day, she called our product manager at the corporate offices because she needed some ‘encouragement’.

And, though I’ve tried to like this girl and failed, a small part of me can’t help but feel bad for her.

Though a larger part of me is jumping with glee.