Tag Archives: work

My unsolicited sales advice finds two audiences.

2 Oct

On my way to Safeway this weekend, I got stopped by a guy with a clipboard who was trying to gain support for an anti-hate crime support. Usually I walk past sidewalk campaigners, but for whatever reason, I allowed him to engage me.

His memorization of statistics was impressive, and his delivery of the message was smooth, but it ran a bit long. I cut him off, saying, “I believe in your cause, but I make a practice of only giving online. Do you have a web address I could go to?”

Instead of answering my question, he pulled out a form for sidewalk donations and started a long pitch for how they’re “only looking for a modest donation of a dollar a day…” Still trying to be polite, I said, “Again, I won’t give money on the street, but if you have a URL I’ll visit it when I get home.”

And again, he didn’t answer my question but instead plowed forward with his pitch, trying to close me  to make an on-the-spot donation. It pissed me off, and although I tend to be a polite person, I realized that if he wasn’t going to listen to me, I wasn’t going to listen to him. So I just raised my hand, said, “You need to learn to listen,” and walked away, muttering “asshole” under my breath.

Apparently I’m not good at turning off my job, because it wasn’t the first piece of sales advice I offered this weekend.

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If only Americans talked like this.

17 Aug

I love the way Aussies talk.

I’m here for work, so in addition to hanging out with our Australian team, I’ve been able to get out and meet a client or two, and sit in on an interview this week.

My second day in town I attended a visit with the Studio Manager of a large financial institution. He was an incredibly nice guy, who spent an hour helping us understand the organization structure and business challenges he faced. It was a great meeting, but I had to stifle giggles when the conversation shifted to industry trends.

Pre-Lick.

“We’re seeing a big push to move digital,” he said. “Going paperless and all that…”

The agent with me made a comment about how quickly the technology is evolving and the opportunities for mobile application development, and was met by affirmation from the client. His observation:

“Just the other day, I was on the train home and looked over and saw a wee little baby in a pram, licking an iPad.”

I love that. I can’t imagine that sentence ever surfacing during a client visit in the US. Sigh. I love the Aussies.

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Like an ice cream truck, but with only one popsicle?

14 Jul

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Yesterday morning at work, before anyone else got in, Margaret asked for my help selecting a bouquet of flowers to send to a funeral. We chose an arrangement online, but when it came to order, we were a bit stumped.

“Name of the deceased?” the form asked.

Margaret’s cursor hovered in the space noncommittally.

“What’s the hold-up?” I asked her.

“I don’t know her name.”

“You’re sending flowers to someone and you don’t know her name?” I couldn’t compute.

“No, you dumb-ass,” she corrected me. “The funeral is for my friend’s mother-in-law. How would I know her name? I never met HER. In fact, this form is lame. Why does it want me to send the flowers to the attention of the deceased?”

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This bodes well for my stage debut on SNL, if there’s a prat fall in the script.

5 Jul

My office has an open environment, where we all have cubes instead of doors. It’s generally a fine set-up, unless you need privacy or your colleagues get a bit rowdy. Fortunately, I have a wireless ear piece, so if it gets noisy, I can generally grab my laptop and find a conference room without interrupting the call.

Last week we had network issues, which does to office workers what too much sugar does to infants: it causes melt-downs. My cube-mate (by which I mean: the woman on the other side of my cube, with whom I negotiate when I feel it’s necessary to fire up my space heater, and who, for the record, is awesome) expresses her frustration by pounding on her desk and hissing the F-word under her breath.

Like a rheumatic joint that predicts a storm, I can gauge our network speed by the way she’s pounding her desk on any given day. Thursday she was practically playing the bongos. “I think someone replaced my cord!” she said.

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It’s already paid for itself and we haven’t even planted it.

16 Jun

One of my colleagues received a George Washington Chia Head as a gift for Christmas. It has been sitting in a box on his desk for months, begging to be re-gifted. After a glass of work-place wine, we all decided to open the box and get the Office Chia started.

I’ve never owned a Chia Pet before, so I’m absurdly excited. When I saw its claim that it will be fully-grown in two weeks, I made a bold decision:

“You know the guy who took his own picture every day for eight years?” I asked.

My colleagues nodded. “Well, get ready to give it a run for its money. Because we will take a picture of Chia George every day until it’s fully grown. Except on weekends.”

I could tell they were pretty impressed with my commitment to the project, based on the silence that followed.

Or maybe they were just thinking, “But then we’ll have to watch our chia start young and awkward, have a brief hottie period, then end up looking like a bike courier who refuses to groom himself.”

Or maybe that’s just my take on the photo guy.

Regardless, upon examining the contents of the box, my excitement was dashed. No one warned me that there would be PAPERWORK involved! Ack!

Apparently, it’s important to register your Chia. (Because someone might steal it? Not sure.)

Here’s a photo of the form:

Paperwork like this is why I've never adopted a baby.

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