Dateline: April 1990. I was a young office worker in a marketing department. Our job was to sell senior living apartments to retirement age homeowners. Somehow the job had turned into a cold-calling telemarketing nightmare. And cold-calling can only be made worse when you are cold-calling elderly people.
"Hello, is Mr. Smith available?"
"MR. SMITH DIED LAST YEAR!!!!"
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry...um...are you Mrs. Smith?"
"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU PEOPLE KEEP CALLING HERE - MR. SMITH IS DEAD."
"I apologize Ma'am, I'm calling from XXX and was hoping to talk to you about an opportunity to live in a place with more amenities and services that would enrich your life."
"WHY WOULD I LEAVE MY HOME??? MR. SMITH BUILT THIS WITH HIS OWN HANDS AND I RAISE ALL 17 OF MY KIDS HERE AND WHY DO YOU KEEP CALLING HERE ASKING FOR MR. SMITH?"
[probably because Mr. Smith is still the name on all the utility bills and public records...but I get how it is upsetting]
"Well we thought you might enjoy a day out and a tour and learning a little about what we offer - we like to compare our community with a cruise ship on land, we have activities, and restaurants, and organized outings, and..."
"I DON'T LIKE TO CRUISE, I GET SEASICK. AND MY NEIGHBOR MILDRED DRIVES ME TO SHOP I DON'T NEED AN ORGANIZED OUTING. AND I COOK FOR MYSELF...THOSE FANCY FOODS DON'T AGREE WITH MY DIGESTION."
Multiply this conversation by 100 and you had my typical workday.
And yet, as miserable as I was at this job, when I sat across the desk from my boss that morning and expected the usual pep talk about how to handle the calls and her expectations for at least 7 appointments to be made that week, I was unpreprepared for her announcement that I was being let go.
It was devastating. I hated this job, but to have someone take it away was like a blow to the gut.
In the end, after unemployment and frustrating job searches, and finally a relocation to find work, I found my real professional home. And after some time had passed I realized that boss had done me a real favor in kicking my complacent miserable ass to the curb.
Fast forward 20 years and here I am. On the other side of the desk. And I'm here to tell you that the message is no easier to give than it was to receive.
3 comments:
I can only imagine how hard it must be :(
I feel for you, and for the people you have to talk to...
This economy... I can't imagine that MOST bosses can have anything but dread about having to deliver that message. However, I do remember that leaving my first job may have been the best thing I ever did... it set me on an eclectic, yellow brick road of a journey that, professionally, I don't regret one bit. My guess is that you do and will handle being on your side of the desk with compassion... and that's all we can ask.
You made me laugh - I can just hear that annoyed old lady on the other end of the phone line!
Post a Comment