Sensitivity Training

Every once in a while, the powers that be at SAT TV feel the need to give us some additional training in something.  One year it was in how to be more polite while answering the phone.  Another year it was a computer course.  This year it was sensitivity training.

The training course was conducted in the conference room.  A screen was set up and the facilitator showed us different slides.  There was a test afterward.

The course talked about all kinds of things.  I don't remember most of it.  The thing that struck a cord with me was when he discussed sexual harassment.  He went through all the verbal forms of harassment then talked about inappropriate touch.

Did you know an inappropriate touch is any touch?  I didn't either.  Turns out inappropriate touch includes things I though were innocent like touching some one's arm during conversation or giving them a hug.

A hug?  As he was talking, my mind went back to the day before.  I had given our receptionist Carol a hug.  Carol has been going through a tough time lately.  Her husband left her for a man and her children are moochers.  Anyway, I felt sorry for her -- she started to tear up -- so I reach over her desk and gave her a hug.

Carol hadn't actually given me permission to hug her.  I just did.  Realization stuck me.  I'm a sexual harasser.  I slumped in my chair.  Was anyone looking at me?  Did they know what a horrible person I am?  How will I ever be able to look anyone in the eye there again?

Here Comes the Bridesmaid

Lilly is having lunch with me today.  It was nice seeing her.  We haven't really hung out much since she got engaged to Jerry.  I knew that would happen.  It happened with Jessica and my other friends, too.  No one has time for me anymore.

We went to a nice coffeeshop between our hometown and the city.  We ordered sandwhiches and high caffeinated beverages then started to catch up.

Of course Lilly had to bring up the wedding.  I groaned inside.  So she was planning that thing out already?  Like, what, two years in advance?

"Oooh, oooh, oooh, I have something important to ask you," Lilly said taking my hands.  "You're my best friend.  Will you be my maid of honor?"

I was speechless.  The maid of honor?  How could I do that when I was secretly jealous she was getting married in the first place?  But at the same time she is my best friend.  It would hurt her feelings if I said no.

Lilly was sitting there, smiling, waiting for a response. 

Say something, you idiot, I thought.  "Yes, I'll do it."

"Wonderful.  You'll have to come dress shopping with me and be my second opinion on everything."

Her second opinion on everything?  Like, literally, everything?  She didn't ask me my opinion on marrying Jerry.

Lilly started to dig through her purse.  "We'll have to schedule a shopping day!"

Yes, a shopping day.

"Fun."  I smiled.

Always a bridesmaid, never a bride.

Bill

Lunch is the only time I can get out of my stifling office.  SAT TV's headquarters is part of a larger office building, a skyscraper downtown.  The building has a shared cafeteria.  Each company has its own break room with a coffee maker, microwave and refrigerator.  But the only place to eat is the cafeteria.

I go down there every day, although most days I can't afford to buy a lunch.  I bring my own, usually left overs from dinner.  Sometimes I eat with co-workers but that can be such a drag when all they do is talk about work.  I want to get away from work.  So I eat by myself by a window so I can look out and daydream.

Today I sat down and began eating, looking outside.

"It's nice to see that I'm not the only one who brown bagged it."

I looked over to the adjacent table and saw a guy I had never seen before, not that was too unusual; I don't know everyone in the building.  He was cute, very cute, and sat there with this shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.  I could tell in his office he must wear a suit because he also had on a tie.

"Yeah," I responded.

Stupid!  Why didn't I say something more intelligent?

"You never know when you're the new guy," he said.

Now my attention was peaked.  A new guy?  Hum, maybe I wouldn't make a fool of myself if I watched what I said from here on out.

"You just started work today?"

"Yes.  I'm the new marketing manager at Net Tech."

"Net Tech.  I work under you, I mean on the floor beneath you, at SAT TV."

"And what do you do there?"

Um, what to say, what to say?  I wanted to be impressive.   "I handle three accounts including California."

"Oh, inside sales."

I didn't correct him and let him believe I was in inside sales.  He finished his lunch, stood and extended his hand to me.

"I'm Bill, by the way.  Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, Bill.  I'm Fran."

He shook my hand and told me he had to get going.  Then he was gone. 

I hope I see Bill again although I'm not sure why.

Dream a Little Dream

I hate my job.  Have I ever told you?  Sometimes I think that I'd like to go back to school and become something else.  But if I do, I'd be, like, the oldest student there.  I don't know that I could stand that embarrassment for four years.

I decided today to take a look at some college websites just to see what there is out there for me.  I mean what could I do with what I already have a high school diploma, some minimum wage jobs while I was in school and customer service?  Um, nothing.

What am I good at?  Um, nothing.  So I just took a look around.

I could be a teacher.  I'd have summers off, but I'd have to talk in front of students, so that's out.

I could be an accountant.  Some of them work from home.  But, no, I'd risk running into Jack.

I could go into office administration, but I'd risk running into Elliot.

I'm bad with computers, so IT is out.  I don't think I can string a coherent sentence together to save my life so journalism is out.

What can be done without any brains or embarrassment.  Um, nothing.

OK, I'm done looking around.

Usedta Coulda

I've been telling you a lot about work and my boss but not a lot about what I really do for SAT TV.

I answer phone calls and lots of them for all the territories I manage.  The calls vary but mostly focus on billing issues and technical issues.  It's the billing issues that kill me because it is usually something I can't fix because it was their fault or the company never received payment or never recorded the payment.  Stuff like that.

Today is a perfect example of how such calls go.  The call went something like this:

"Hello, this is Fran.  Thank you for calling SAT TV.  How may I help you?"

"Why do I have a charge of $39.99 on my bill for Knowtime on this month's bill?"

"Let me look into that for you, sir.  Can I get some more information from you?"

I find out his name and account number and look up his bill.  Sure enough, there is an extra $39.99 charge there."

"Your account shows you're subscribed to Knowtime, sir.  You didn't cancel after your free 30 trial."

"You have to cancel.  I thought it automatically cancelled."

"No, sir, you needed to call and cancel.  I can't remove the charge"

"Well, you usedta coulda.  Thanks for nothing."

Click.  He hangs up on me.  Then I record everything that happened during the call.  If they don't believe me, or if he calls and complains, they will review the phone call to see if I am lying. 

This happens about once every five to ten minutes all day long.  I'm tired.

Nip Slip

The corporate singles mixer was this evening.  All day at work I had been nervous but excited.  I didn't know what to think.  I guessed there would be a bunch of businessmen and attorneys and accountants.  There would be successful men who weren't cheap and who were full of motivation.

I picked out a nice cocktail dress to wear, a purple dress with spaghetti straps.  It has a bit of a low back so I wasn't able to wear a bra with it but I was able to use those paste on support things they sell in the lingerie departments.  I had my nicest jewelry on and a stylish purse.  The only thing that made me look poor is my car but none of the singles would see that so I was all set.

After work I changed in the bathroom and redid my makeup. 

Off I went.  I was one of the first people there but after a while more and more people streamed in.  They served alcohol and hors d'oeuvres.  I watched what I ate and what I drank because I wanted to make a good impression.  I mingled.  I felt confident.  After a while music started.

I was talking to a guy named Jack who suggested we dance.  He seemed very nice.  He was accountant  --  see, I knew I could meet some accountants -- who has trouble getting out and meeting women.  Perfect.  He was desperate.

After some slow classy songs the music got faster.  I threw my arms up in the arm and got into the music.  I started to notice people were staring at me.  At first I thought it was my imagination but, no, they were staring at me.

Okay, an audience.  I continued to dance.  Finally, I saw Jack waving his hand in front of his chest.  I didn't understand.

"Fran, your dress."

My dress?  What was wrong with my dress?  I glanced down and saw it.  Oh, my God, my nipple had slipped out my dress and everyone saw it.  Everyone!

I pushed my way past Jack and everyone else, grabbed my purse and left as quickly as I could.  I'll never go back there again.  They'd never look me in the eye.

There's A Spud Born Every Minute -- Part 2

I made it Jessica's room.  Her room was full of flowers.  I guess I picked out the wrong gift after all.  I can't win.  I set the flowers down and walked over to the bed.

"You look like hell, Fran.  What happened?"

"It was nothing really.  Remember Elliot?"

"I don't know, Fran.  You've had so many boyfriends.  Is he the one who likes to sit around all day drinking beer and watching Sport Network?"

"Liked.  He's very successful now.  Probably owns a Mercedes."

"Really?"  Jessica sat up, clearly interested.

I had to change the subject.  "Where is Spuds Mackenzie?'

Jessica pointed to the little hospital crib thingy next to her bed.  "Right there.  Why would you call her that?"

"No reason.  Seeing Elliot was a big surprise."

"What you need, Fran, is a successful man who wants to settle down, not a string of losers.  You need to go to where the successful people are."

I walked over to Mackenzie and feigned interest.  I couldn't think of anything other than Elliot and the "wonderful girl" he had met after me.  I can be wonderful and inspiring, too. 

"Well, there is a corporate singles mixer in the city this Friday.  I was thinking of going."

"You definitely need to, Fran.  It will do you some good."