I didn’t. Somehow, nothing seemed particularly funny that day. “We’ll get back to you” was the message for Justin, and “hold the fort” was mine. Thanks Elroy. I took a couple of deep breaths and started toward Justin’s office. He wasn’t there. Heading back for mine, I nearly ran into him. He was walking out of Tom’s office and looked uncharacteristically grim. He brightened momentarily when he saw me, and at my suggestion, we went back to his office to talk. We talked about the target, the ninety percent and I promised him more and better answers soon. I smiled; he didn’t. “Justin,” I said, “I know things are a bit unsettled but....”
Being Treated with Respect
“It’s not that, Rachel. It’s Tom. I know I sound like I’m complaining, but I thought he wanted to help me.”
“I thought so too. What’s happened?”
“I’ve been to his office twice today trying to set something up, and he’s let me know he’s too busy to talk.”
“That must be frustrating.”
“It has been. I don’t know how long he’s going to put me off or when I can expect to get some help from him.”
“What has he said about that?”
“I’ll get back to you—kid.”
“Kid?”
“Yes, Rachel, and I don’t like that. But I’m trying to get some promised help, and I don’t know how much I can expect if I let him know he is getting to me.”
“I don’t think Tom means anything by it, Justin. Have you mentioned it to him?”
“Not in so many words.”
“But you need to be explicit. Just let him know in a nice way that you expect to be called by your name. Say it in your own words, but make it clear. I learned long ago that if you have to choose between being loved and being respected, go for respect. Love is freely given but respect is earned.”
“You don’t think he’ll be insulted?”
“Not if you focus on your reaction to his words rather than on him. The only way you can stop it is by calling attention to it. Say something like, ‘Tom, when you call me kid it makes me think you don’t have any respect for me. I like you and I want us to have a good relationship.’ You know what to say.”
“I’ll do it. But what about the fact that he doesn’t seem to have any free time? Rachel, I know you must regard me as the biggest complainer around. It’s just that...” His voice trailed off.
I waited for a moment before responding. “I don’t think so. You’re a high achiever, and you are going to shine, I promise. Since Tom doesn’t seem to have time when you walk into his office, invite him to lunch, or catch him on a break. Then tell him you need five minutes, or ask him if you can make an appointment. What you want to do is set up a time when you can get together and have a real conversation. Walking into his office is like arriving at someone’s house uninvited. See what I mean? Now if you need my help in any way, you’ve got it, but it’s better for you if you do it on your own.”
Justin promised to deal with his problem with Tom, and I hoped that Tom wouldn’t make things any more difficult. “Stay out of it, Rachel,” I kept telling myself. “Justin’s got a spear and he can handle this lion.” So I got a cup of tea and walked back toward the quiet of my office.
Interpersonal Style
Katy was sitting in the reception area with Judy, and she looked out of sorts. She followed me into my office. “What’s up?” I said as cheerfully as I could. In the next few minutes I learned (1) she wanted more product training, (2) she was feeling left out because Justin was getting help from Tom, and (3) she wanted me to do something about it. Katy was clear, Katy was right, but Katy was not very diplomatic in delivering the message. Even so, I decided that now was not the appropriate time to point that out. She suggested I call Charlie Rothstein, Manager of the Sugar Land plant. It was a good idea, and I wasted no time in complying.
“It must be telepathy,” said Charlie. “I was just getting ready to call you. We’ve got our new mini-gelcaps coming out next month, and your marketers need to come over and learn all about them.”
“Charlie, they are going on the road next week.”
“Good. Then tell them to drop everything and get over here tomorrow at one. We’ll put a little dog and pony show together for them so they’ll have something great to hawk.”
“What are these gelcaps for?” I asked.
“Mini-gelcaps, Rachel, that’s the point. Most people hate to take vitamins because they taste bad, smell awful and are large enough for a horse. These are small and jam-packed with nutrition, and they smell sweet. Also, you don’t have to eat a big meal to take them because they are coated. Ah, but I don’t want to give away my whole pitch. They are also color-coded. Pretty cool, huh?”
“Sounds great. I’ll get the message out. Hopefully everyone can attend. Charlie, what about some kind of full-blown product review for Katy and possibly Justin? Both are pretty new to the field and I know it would help them immeasurably.”
“I’m not sure Justin needs product help. He’s worked the retail end of the business, but let’s give them both the opportunity. If they can stay later, I’ll get someone to show them around. Okay?”
“That’s fine. And Charlie, thanks.”
I relayed the information to Katy, who nodded her approval. “You’ve said you don’t want to go with Tom and Justin on some sales calls,” I added. “Have you thought about asking Tom to go with you perhaps to meet some new customers in Houston?”
“I have, and I decided not to. Rachel, he’s overloaded with his own and Justin’s work. What would you think if I asked Stuart instead?”
What would I think? I shuddered at the thought. Stuart already had too much influence on Katy. “You decide,” I told her. “If I can help you in any way, please let me know.” When she left I had the mad urge to crawl under my desk. Today had started out to be so pleasant, but it had wound up to be a “crabby day” with a myriad of complaints and dissatisfactions. So far, I had resisted the mood. Judy was doing better, having recovered from hurricane Alicia, and she agreed to broadcast Charlie Rothstein’s invitation to the “troops.”
Immaturity
As I drove home, I decided to have a quiet evening. I would eat the turkey sandwich waiting in the refrigerator, brew some chamomile tea and curl up in bed with a good mystery. The phone was ringing when I walked in the door. “Rachel,” said Paul, “I thought I’d bring you up to date on the latest.” It seems that Brad had made plans to go to a football game the previous night with Pete Redfield, his roommate. His boss, however, called Brad about thirty minutes before they were to leave and asked him to work. Brad had claimed a sore throat.
“Oh, Paul,” I moaned, “I thought we taught him better.” “Well, that’s not the worst of it,” he said. “The boss was at the football game and noted Brad’s miraculous recovery.”
“I take it our management-trainee is unemployed.”
“He is. When he arrived at work today, he was told he was no longer needed.”
“It’s a hard lesson to learn, but he shouldn’t have told a lie.”
“I agree, but that’s not all of it. He was so upset on the way home, he hit another car. But don’t worry. He wasn’t hurt.”
“His fault?”
“He’s the one who got the ticket. He’s going to handle the fine.”
“So how much is this going to cost us right now?”
“About four hundred, give or take. Our son had better start rethinking his life fast—before I discover child abuse.”
“I know what you mean. Any hope he might come home?”
There wasn’t. Now I was feeling crabby too.
I expected Friday to be uneventful. Katy, Stuart, Tom and Justin were making last minute arrangements for their trips. All four would be off to Sugar Land in the afternoon. Alicia was due to spend half the day at Perry Winkle Enterprises and would be back Monday. Frankly, I didn’t miss any of them after Thursday. My suitcases were in the car, and Oakville, Georgia, was “on my mind.”
First thing that morning I checked the plane schedules and decided to catch the two o’clock plane to Pembroke. Paul was delighted when I called and said he would make reservations at our favorite Italian restaurant. When I asked about Brad, he said we’d talk about that later.
Solutions
Walking into the coffee room, I saw Justin and Katy in conversation. “Can I talk to you a minute?” asked Katy.
“Of course,” I said.
“In your office? I’ll be there in ten minutes. I just have to return one phone call.”
“See you then,” I responded, hoping we were not in the midst of another crisis. I glanced over in Justin’s direction. He shrugged. I assumed our young warrior had put down his spear and the lion was roaring—at least, for now. At any rate, no hiding in the underbrush for me. Just as soon as I finished talking with Katy, I’d go straight to Tom’s “den” and see what the problem was. “Rachel,” I said to myself, “this is not what Lucien meant when he said ‘mentors follow.’” No matter, I rationalized. The agreement Tom made to help Justin was with me, so I decided I had every right to check on how things were going.
“Rachel,” said Katy, waking me from my reverie. “Did I startle you?”
“A little,” I acknowledged. “I was deep in thought.”
“Well, I’m here to apologize for yesterday,” she said. “I was in a bad mood, and I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
“Apology accepted,” I responded, smiling. “And you did it so well too.”
“I had a good teacher—and more than enough opportunities to practice. I’m hoping I can get to the point in my life when I don’t have to do it regularly,” said Katy. “I could tell by the way you looked yesterday that I came on much too strongly, although you were nice and didn’t say a word about it.”
“You know, Katy, you’re a bit like a three-way light bulb that continuously glows at one hundred eighty watts. You’re bright but sometimes too intense. That puts people off. Now if you could lower the wattage sometimes, others would come to realize what a warm, caring person you really are.”
“I like that example about the light bulb, Rachel. I’ll remember it.”
“And I like you. You’re fun to be around. Thanks for taking the time to come by and apologize. Most people would have just waited for it to blow over.”
“I didn’t want to leave for two weeks on the road without telling you I was sorry. You’ve really been so much help to me.” With that, she turned and left. Lucien was right. Katy’s judgment was improving. So were her interpersonal skills. I looked at my watch and decided I had just time enough to talk with Tom before he went with the others to Sugar Land. He was in his office talking on the phone, his feet on the desk. When he saw me he smiled broadly and waved, an expansive gesture that summoned me into the throne room. A subsequent signal indicated he would be off the phone in one to two minutes, so I decided to wait. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” he began as he returned the phone from his shoulder to its cradle.
“Tom, I need your help,” I said, staring at the soles of his shoes and noting the rundown heel on the left one.
“You got it,” he responded, leaning back in his chair and clasping his hands behind his head.
“Don’t be so quick to decide.”
“What’s on your mind?” His feet returned to the floor. Then, a pause. “If it’s about Justin, I told him to relax, take it slow. Everything’s under control.”
“It’s just that—I think he and Katy need help. Tom, they’re lost. They...”
“Hold it, Rachel,” he said sitting up straight in his chair. “I like you. You’re doing good things, but I need to take care of business, my business. I can’t adopt everyone, now can I?”
“Nor should you.”
“Then?”
“I think I caught you at a bad time, Tom. I can come back later,” I said, starting for the door, “but do me a favor and think about it. No one knows the selling business the way you do. You’re our superstar. I’d hoped you would be willing to pass your knowledge on to Katy and Justin.” He said nothing, so I stood at the door. “I can’t believe you were always this good. Someone must have helped you along the way,” I said, as I opened it.
“Come back for a minute, Rachel. No need to leave in a huff.” His feet were back on the desk, and he seemed more relaxed. I sat down. For a moment he closed his eyes. “You’re good. You ought to be in this business.”
“I used to be,” I responded.
“Okay, I’ll admit I had some pretty good teachers. I learned the most from Sid Bell and a few others who took me around with them and showed me how it is done. That’s for sure. I had to carry the water, and I was the butt of more than one joke. You know how salesmen are. Sid was the best.”
“And you’re the recipient of his legacy, Tom.”
“Look, you’ve made your point. I want to help Justin, but he needs to be patient. I’ve got to get in touch with my contacts. First things first. Then I’ll make more time for him, Rachel. He’s a good kid.”
“He’s a fine young man,” I countered, “and I know he’ll appreciate your help—but Tom, he has contacts to call too, and it would help if...”
“Okay, you win,” he sighed, “not because you’re persistent, though heaven knows you are, but because, this time you’re right. As I said before, you ought to go back into marketing. No one could resist your powers of persuasion.”
“I think that’s a compliment, isn’t it? Anyway, while I’ve got you cornered, what about Katy?”
“I don’t think so, Rachel. I’ve got one extra mouth to feed already. Stu said he was going to help Katy,” he responded. “They get along well together.”
So that’s the way we left it. By two I was aboard a plane headed for Georgia.
Paul brought Brad along when he came to pick me up, and the three of us went to Luciano’s in Pembroke for dinner. We had barely finished our salads when Brad brought up the accident. “I guess you heard about the truck, Mom.” I had, and I was glad he wasn’t hurt. He told me it was just a “fender bender.” He was once again employed, he told me, but this was only a “stop-gap” job.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Delivering pizzas, but don’t get excited, Mom,” he continued, responding to my dazed look, “I’m not planning on staying there for long. It’s just ‘til my other job comes through.”
“Other job?”
“Yes. I’ve been talking to the manager of the Rainbow Inn, and I think I might get a job there. They have to check my references first.”
“Brad, are you sure you want to stay in this ‘food business.’ I mean what do you feel you got out of your job as management trainee?”
“Not much, I guess. It’s hard working like that. You don’t make any decisions. They called me a management trainee, but what they really meant was grunt. I was cleaning bathrooms and washing off tables. I understood the word trainee, but I don’t have a clue what they meant by management.”
I stifled the urge to agree. “That’s not your future anyway, but telling them you had a sore throat!”
“I probably shouldn’t have done that, Mom, but they didn’t treat me fairly. They promised me something and didn’t deliver. And they should have warned me rather than fire me.”
I sighed. “I know it must seem that way. Still, I’m not sure there’s any organization I know of that wouldn’t have fired you for what you did. I hope you’ve learned something about the business world from that. What about the job you’re in now?”
He pushed a lock of sandy hair back from his face and thought for a moment. “Not too great,” he answered. “They told me to expect big tips, but some people are cheap. They tell you to keep the change and there’s a quarter or less. If the pizza has one ingredient different from what they ordered, they complain to me. I didn’t make it, and I don’t like listening to their complaints. The only good thing is the freedom of driving around, but I’m not staying there. There’s no futu
re in it. I like the Rainbow Inn. It’s a great restaurant, and I’m sure the tips will be much better.”
“Where’s the future in that? And what about school?” Paul rolled his eyes, an indication I would get nowhere by nagging. I looked away. Parenting can be difficult when you want so much for your child.
Brad went on, “Don’t worry, Mom, I’m learning a lot about the business world.” I doubted that. “I couldn’t stay in this job, even if I wanted to. It doesn’t pay enough. I never realized how much living on your own costs. And now Pete’s parents want him to move out of our apartment and back home because of his grades.” I felt a ray of hope. Brad could not possibly afford his apartment alone.
“So when is he moving?” I asked.
“He’s not. Pete’s got to the end of the semester to bring his grades up, and I’m sure he’ll do it.”
“Even with his paying half, I can’t imagine that the pizza job is enough for you to make it on.” He nodded in agreement. “That’s where a good education comes in,” I added.
“Uh huh,” he responded, looking at his watch. I looked at Paul. He shrugged. I had said enough.
“Okay,” I said, noting that this part of the conversation was clearly over. “If I promise not to nag, can you spare me a little time when we get home. I don’t get to see you as much as I’d like, and there’s something I’d like to talk over with you.”
“Can it wait ’til tomorrow, Mom? Pete and I have some plans for later.” He grinned.
The Art of Mentoring Page 17