Wednesday, November 10, 2010

The First Day

Pat "Lumpy" Peterson was a seasoned phone master, smooth as silk, gregarious with a contagious laugh that made you smile just listening to him.  He had a handful of computer green sheets in front of him with names and number and addresses, that he carefully searched through the coded notations he made from working the list late last week.  As he leaned back in his chair, his whole torso came into view.  Cheese curl crumbs dotted his baby blue knit shirt, and some sort of food debris was evident in the khaki pants on his ample lap.  Lumpy had been at the phones for 6 years, was one of the youngest real estate agents ever licensed in the state and had more bullshit lines than a ATT substation.  Lumpy left the real estate business, because he was very sensitive about his weight.  He was a great salesman, did his homework, but couldn't do that face-to-face thing any more.  His oversize body had destroyed his confidence and he was too self-conscious to meet prospects.  Pat must have weighed a good five bills, about five-ten and balding, he was a smoking machine.  It was easier to jump over him than walk around him.  He had a coke and big bag of barbeque chips open on his desk, sitting right next to the ashtray with cigarette butts pointing every which way reminding me of a battleship with guns at full blaze.  The whole day I sat with Lumpy, his ashtray was constantly smoking...

"Lumpy, what do you guys do here?"  "Who told you to call me Lumpy, are you  smart ass or a dumbshit?"  "Nah, nothing, just Jerry said to go sit by Lumpy so I thought that was your name!"  Oh Mr. D*****, told you that, that piece of shit, let him come over here and say that!"  Obviously I was on my way, made a great impression and pissed off the first person I met.  There was a sort of hard core feel about the place...this was unlike any corporate environment I had ever been in.  I remember this type of tough exterior crap growing up in the South Bronx, but in a "corporate environment" in the mild-mannered midwest??

I sat there watching Lumpy the entire day, he ate constantly, if it wasn't Doritoes, it was Lays potato chips, he had king sized package of Reeses Peanut Butter cups in the drawer and he prided himself on staying at his desk.  "I don't do lunch!  And no one here who wants to make it, takes a lunch, we eat at our desks" and it looked like Lumpy was at his desk a lot.  I had eaten a light breakfast early and gotten to the bank building early, trying to make that great first impression and I was starving. 

Earlier that day, in what already seems like a lifetime ago, I had visions of working in a well-lit, airy open office space, greeting back customers, having them sit down with me and telling me they needed to invest their money.  I would come up with some brilliant suggestion, they would invest and refer their friends and family, and I too would be living the high life.  Putting my finance degree to use would finally reap the rewards I had longed for during all those late night home work/study sessions.

Pulling up to the bank I was initially impressed, 3 Mercedes Benz 450 SL sport coupes, a behemouth Benz 450 SEL long 4 door sedan, two older BMWs, a 5-series and a 7-series, all looking like they needed a wash.  There were some other expensive cars out here, and where there are expensive cars, there are people making money.  How could I ever be lucky enough to get a job like that.

By 1pm, I was thirsty, starving, smelling like I had been in an American Legion smoky bar for the past week.  I needed a something to eat, a breath of fresh air but most of all, I needed a cold glass of water or something wet to wash the cigarette film out of my mouth!  I asked Lumpy if there was someplace close where I could grab a sandwich, he repeated, "No one who is making money here EVER goes to lunch, and if you want to work here, you probably shouldn't start your first day asking for a break."   I sat there wondering, is this what I really want to do?  It seemed like these guys were one asshole bigger than the next and they were taking no prisoners today.  Finally, I needed to go the restroom, Lumpy pointed me in the direction of the door that I came in and I was tempted to walk out and head up the stairs and chalk it up to experience.

Walking toward the door, Jerry called me over and asked me what I thought.  What do I think!!  WHAT DO I THINK??  (these guys are a bunch of raging assholes, with no interpersonal skills and a knack for making you feel physically intimidated and unwelcome) I casually replied, "Looks like everyone works hard, stays on the phone, talks a lot and seem to be dedicated to their jobs."  "well, that sounds great, but most guys think that we're all a bunch of asshole with no regard for anyone else." he replied.  "Step into my office Fredo, I want to talk to you on a personal level"   I navigated my way through the cubicle maze and sat down at Jerrys desk in the corner of the room.  "Lumpy seems to think you'll work out OK.  He said that if I liked your resume, he would have you as his assistant.  I don't read resumes, and most of these guys here don't know how to write one, but if you can sit by that fat fuck and watch him eat a csae of twinkins, slosh down half a case of coke and smoke a pack of cigarettes without getting up and leaving, I guess we can give you a chance."  Why don't you come in tomorrow at 8:00 and see if you can put up with Lumpy for a couple of days, then we'll see what we can do with you.  We'll start you on a non-repayable draw of $1500 for the first month, $1200 for the second month and $1000 for the third month.  After that you're on your own.  If you aren't making it on your own after the third month, we don't want ya.  If you want to go straight commission at any time, let me know and I stop your draw and you make what you make." "Fredo, you must have done something right, because Lumpy likes you, most guys don't make it past the first coke and fart at his desk!"  "Jerry, my name is Frango, and I'll see you tomorrow, thanks!"

I wasn't sure if I wanted the job, but I was hired and too intimidated to turn the deal down.  As I walked out and up that dirty, smoky stairway I noticed immediately that the air was fresher, I could see clearly to the top of the stairs and I could smell the cloud of smoke following me up the stairs to my car. Was I going to come back to this shit-hole tomorrow?

The Interview

As I walked into the room, past the stained cubicles and dirt littered carpet, it became obvious that I had stepped into some sort of phone dialing organization...about 20 guys were on the phone and Jerry was animatedly talking, I presumed to a customer, about what a bad decision he was making by trying to back out of his deal. 

He listened for a minute, rolled his eyes and went back into cajoling the customer into sending in the check for the order.  He was interrupted by the client a number of times and I could tell the conversation wasn't going the way he hoped.  He was losing the deal, then finally he lost it.  "We've gone out on a limb for you, based upon your word that you would honor this transaction, we record all our calls and have it on tape where you provided us with your name, address, phone number and placed the order.  We also have it on tape that your representative informed you that this was a firm and binding transaction, and that we were going into the market to buy your product and lock in the trade for you.  He also informed you that it once we give you a transaction number the trade is done and you own the product.  We fully intend to hold you to your agreement, and we hope that we don't have to get our attorneys involved:"

"OK, so you must be Fredo, have a seat!  What do you know about this business Fredo?"  "Well, Mr. D***, first off my name is Frango, and I was hoping to get started in the investment business."  "So, tell me Fredo, can you dial a phone and talk to people?"  "You bet I can," I managed to squeeze in.  "OK" he choked as he took a drag off his Marlboro, "go sit with Lumpy and listen to what he says and then come back to see me at the end of the day."

How it started...I should have known better

I was fresh out of school, bored with the daily grind of an hourly wage job, and a friend told me about this "financial" job at a local community bank.  I decided to interview for the job and that's how my story started!

I had been working after college at hourly wage jobs, not much future, no money and no fun.  I was an outgoing, friendly guy who could talk to an empty chair and enjoy myself.  I thought I was wasting my talents working for a minimum hourly wage.

So, I show up at this small community bank for "The Interview". I dressed for "The Interview" in my only blue suit...white shirt, and my power tie.  I turned off the main road into the parking lot of the manicured and impeccably landscaped bank building, suited up and sweaty palmed, wondering if I would be an acceptable candidate.  I confidently walked up to the security guard...(they had them back in 1977) smiled and asked him where Jerry's office was.  He casually pointed me in the direction of a flight of stairs leading down to the basement, and said go to the foot of the stairs, open the door and ask to speak to Jerry.

The stairway was dimly lit, paint cracked and falling off the walls, shoe marks, bag marks, could have been dead body marks all along the wall leading down the the basement.  The door at the foot of the second flight of stairs was a steel casement door, scratched and worn bare to the metal in spots.  The handle was dented and broken, the door looked as though someone had kicked it more often to open it than turned it as would normally be done.

I casually placed my ear close to the opening and I could smell the old tobacco smell and the undeniable "cellar dampness" smell of a long abandoned basement in an old dilapidated house.  I opened the door and the sound of the loud, aggressive voices hit me full force.  Hidden deep within the bowels of the bank was a world all to its own.  There must have been 30 guys in there.  All that I could see through the smoke and the haze were abandoned souls...all with a phone pressed hard to the side of their head!  The first guy I saw had an overwight smoker, with torn t-shirt and jeans.  His worn and stained tennis shoes looked like he just found them in a dumpster, he was growling at some poor victim on the other end of the line, and when I asked "Where is Jerry?", he just pointed to a monster of a man sitting in the corner about 40 feet away.

As I walked toward Jerry, I realized I was the ONLY guy wearing a suit in the place, our eyes met.  I could tell immediately, today was going to be a different day!