I went to Indy yesterday to do some work for the sales office up there. They needed to do some on-site client audio recording and couldn't figure out how to work the new minidisc player. So I show up to show them how to use it. I drive up from Bloomington, walk into the office and greet the saleswomen I'm gonig to be teaching and see him and greet him as well. He's about my height, normal weight, looks to be about 57-60 years old. Has the old ring-around-the-head balding haircut, but with the hair ever so slightly long and unkempt. He's wearing a three piece brown/green suit and sports a bushy moustache. He seethes with false confidence and greasy bullshi. I've met the archetype for slimey sales manager. And I don't say that lightly. I've met many, many broadcast sales managers in my career and this guy is easily the most repellent to me. He's like the evil David Brent- speaking and directing and saying nothing relevant while inspiring neither trust nor pity. This guy represents everything I dislike in salespeople and middle managers.
Get this- I was told by the sales girl with whom I was working that in her very first interview with him he asked her with a smirk, "Do you have a problem with sexual harrassment?". He's like that- the kind of guy that would tell you he was just having a bit of fun with her. I was dumbfounded that she did nothing about it. Perhaps she just really needed the job. Perhaps these things are too difficult to prove.
He tries to have this identity as the "fun" manager, that his office is a hard-working, (and even more importantly) hard-partying operation. Ever since I've known him, mostly on the phone, he always says the same thing to me- "Come on up to the Indy office, we'll show you a great time up! We'll take you ou tot lunch and get you drunk. It'll be great!" I never know what to say to that overly buddy-buddy kind of come-on. Guys like him are so used to working their hustle that they don't even realize how hackneyed and insincere they sound. And I'm certainly not in a position to tell him.
So I'm at his office, which is about 50 miles north of where I work. He's got a sales staff there: three four women and him. There had been two other guys but one had been fired the previous week and the other quit the week before that. He greets me with a handshake on my arrival (at least guys like him know how to shake hands) and tells me he hopes I have a good time while I'm there. And I begin to get settled in and start teaching two salespeople how to use the minidisc player. About fifteen minutes later I hear a huge CRRAAASSSHHHH about 25 feet away and I jump. He had thrown one of those big watercooler tubs into the room from his office and it made an incredibly loud sound. Another 30 minutes pass and he comes out with a big smile on his face and asks if it scared me. I say yes and he laughs, pleased with himself. I smile at him, thinking "What are you? 13?".
Then, at lunch, when drink orders are being taken, he says "Have a beer! Why not?". I order a strawberry smoothie instead. He keeps talking about how much he likes the song that's currently playing on the radio- he does this like three or four times in the course of a half hour. He can never remember the name of the song or the artist but keeps telling me what a great song it is. I can't tell if he really likes the songs or if he's trying to point out to me that the restaurant is playing our station so that I'll be...what? Impressed? Or maybe he's just high? He also seems really interested in letting me know how great the burger he ordered tastes and how great the restaurant we're eating at is. And he drones on in management-speak about how his ideas can push the station to the top of the ratings; how he could be billing two million more dollars a year if they stick to his plan for the station- a plan, I gather, is based around changing the radio station slogan to say "World Class Radio!" and buying a few billboards around town. Big plan. I just nod and pretend to be interested. I'm a better actor than this guy. At one point he actually says, "I know we throw stuff at you late sometimes. I know sometimes we ask a lot of you but just remember, Gerry, it's for all of us, for the WTTS family." He reeks of bullshit. I eat my "free" lunch and smile a friendly smile at him.
The best part of the day comes over desert after he's gone. I sit and listen to the two saleswomen bitch about him and their jobs. I offer a little bit of bitching of my own but mostly listen. They are like most saleschicks I've met- nice enough but with an outgoing superficiality that attempts to hide either a lack of interests or some sort of depression. It was good to finally meet face-to-face with people that I deal with on the phone every single day. I felt quickly at ease around all of them...even Mr. Slime Sales Manager.
The trip did put into relief for me the things that I find troubling about the company for which I work. I've not been feeling very valued in my position, mostly on a monetary basis. I am tired of the party line that "it's Bloomington and it just doesn't pay well in this town." Maybe I'm too hung up on class divisions, but seeing guys like Mr. Slime drive their BMWs to their $300,000 houses in Geist while I pay my bills and sometimes struggle doesn't make me feel much like "WTTS family". Am I greedy? I don't think so.
Don't get me wrong. I value my job. I enjoy what I do. I have a great office, health insurance, 401K, etc. I just don't feel like going the extra mile when I make five to ten thousand dollars less than a comparable position to mine in another city. Don't pay me Bloomington wages to work for a Bloomington and Indianapolis market.
Get this- I was told by the sales girl with whom I was working that in her very first interview with him he asked her with a smirk, "Do you have a problem with sexual harrassment?". He's like that- the kind of guy that would tell you he was just having a bit of fun with her. I was dumbfounded that she did nothing about it. Perhaps she just really needed the job. Perhaps these things are too difficult to prove.
He tries to have this identity as the "fun" manager, that his office is a hard-working, (and even more importantly) hard-partying operation. Ever since I've known him, mostly on the phone, he always says the same thing to me- "Come on up to the Indy office, we'll show you a great time up! We'll take you ou tot lunch and get you drunk. It'll be great!" I never know what to say to that overly buddy-buddy kind of come-on. Guys like him are so used to working their hustle that they don't even realize how hackneyed and insincere they sound. And I'm certainly not in a position to tell him.
So I'm at his office, which is about 50 miles north of where I work. He's got a sales staff there: three four women and him. There had been two other guys but one had been fired the previous week and the other quit the week before that. He greets me with a handshake on my arrival (at least guys like him know how to shake hands) and tells me he hopes I have a good time while I'm there. And I begin to get settled in and start teaching two salespeople how to use the minidisc player. About fifteen minutes later I hear a huge CRRAAASSSHHHH about 25 feet away and I jump. He had thrown one of those big watercooler tubs into the room from his office and it made an incredibly loud sound. Another 30 minutes pass and he comes out with a big smile on his face and asks if it scared me. I say yes and he laughs, pleased with himself. I smile at him, thinking "What are you? 13?".
Then, at lunch, when drink orders are being taken, he says "Have a beer! Why not?". I order a strawberry smoothie instead. He keeps talking about how much he likes the song that's currently playing on the radio- he does this like three or four times in the course of a half hour. He can never remember the name of the song or the artist but keeps telling me what a great song it is. I can't tell if he really likes the songs or if he's trying to point out to me that the restaurant is playing our station so that I'll be...what? Impressed? Or maybe he's just high? He also seems really interested in letting me know how great the burger he ordered tastes and how great the restaurant we're eating at is. And he drones on in management-speak about how his ideas can push the station to the top of the ratings; how he could be billing two million more dollars a year if they stick to his plan for the station- a plan, I gather, is based around changing the radio station slogan to say "World Class Radio!" and buying a few billboards around town. Big plan. I just nod and pretend to be interested. I'm a better actor than this guy. At one point he actually says, "I know we throw stuff at you late sometimes. I know sometimes we ask a lot of you but just remember, Gerry, it's for all of us, for the WTTS family." He reeks of bullshit. I eat my "free" lunch and smile a friendly smile at him.
The best part of the day comes over desert after he's gone. I sit and listen to the two saleswomen bitch about him and their jobs. I offer a little bit of bitching of my own but mostly listen. They are like most saleschicks I've met- nice enough but with an outgoing superficiality that attempts to hide either a lack of interests or some sort of depression. It was good to finally meet face-to-face with people that I deal with on the phone every single day. I felt quickly at ease around all of them...even Mr. Slime Sales Manager.
The trip did put into relief for me the things that I find troubling about the company for which I work. I've not been feeling very valued in my position, mostly on a monetary basis. I am tired of the party line that "it's Bloomington and it just doesn't pay well in this town." Maybe I'm too hung up on class divisions, but seeing guys like Mr. Slime drive their BMWs to their $300,000 houses in Geist while I pay my bills and sometimes struggle doesn't make me feel much like "WTTS family". Am I greedy? I don't think so.
Don't get me wrong. I value my job. I enjoy what I do. I have a great office, health insurance, 401K, etc. I just don't feel like going the extra mile when I make five to ten thousand dollars less than a comparable position to mine in another city. Don't pay me Bloomington wages to work for a Bloomington and Indianapolis market.