She's the Boss

by Lisa Lim

  “I have confidence,” I said resolutely. “And I don’t have a big ego. Really. I don’t. I just act like I do.”

  “Oh and there’s more,” said Carter. “It’s not just your own ego you need to worry about. You also have to deal with other people’s egos.”

  “Great,” I said with heavy sarcasm.

  “The good news is the size of someone’s ego is one of the easiest things to figure out. And once you can read ego, understand its impact on business and control it by either stroking it or pushing it, then you’ll be fine.”

  “So … big egos are bad and small egos are good?”

  “Not always.”

  “But how can a giant ego even be a good thing?”

  “Well, a lot of deals get made simply because someone’s ego is so big that psychologically he can’t afford not to get it done. So always use what you know about a person to your benefit. It’s all about learning how to read people and at the same time, learning how to influence their reading of you.”

  I stared at my Jedi master. “How do you do it? Read people?”

  “It’s called being street smart. And while it is not teachable, it is learnable.”

  “So tell me.” I sat forward in my chair. “How do I learn?”

  “It’s simple, really. By the powers of observation. And by listening. In meetings, pay attention to the little things people say or do unconsciously.”

  “Like?”

  “Like the way a person looks away at the sound of a particular question. Like the way a person chooses to phrase his thoughts.”

  “Mmmm …” I murmured pensively.

  “And pay attention to the cubicles; more often than not, how people choose to decorate their space is often an extension of themselves.”

  I sat up straighter. “What can you tell about me just from observing my cubicle?” I cleared my throat loudly. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that my desk is always immaculate. Thank you very much,” I added smugly.

  “With you …” Carter studied me for a moment. “My gut feeling tells me that your clean desk is a sign of a cluttered drawer.”

  Holy Crapola! How did he know? Was this guy a psychic?

  “Guilty as charged.” I grinned sheepishly.

  “And pay attention to a person’s eyes. The eyes will always tell you what someone is really thinking. In most business situations, people communicate with their eyes what they can’t do with words.”

  I opened my eyes wide so they were bulging in their sockets. “What do my eyes tell you right now?”

  The corners of his mouth twitched as his gray eyes met my bulging brown ones. “They tell me that I am boring you to death.”

  “No you’re not,” I said emphatically. “I thought I was blinding you with my earnestness.”

  “Anyway, my point is the clues are everywhere. You just need to be tuned in to them. Most people are not. Either they’re too busy listening to themselves, or they’re too involved in their own agenda to notice what others are doing.”

  “And this so called ‘reading’ of people.” I turned my head slightly to blow a smooth stream of smoke across my shoulder. “How does it really help you?”

  “Well, for one, it helps me predict how people are likely to react or respond in almost any business situation. And that in turn impacts my actions. In the past, I’ve failed to close a few deals simply because my sit-back attitude and failure to stroke a few egos came across as cold and arrogant.”

  “All good advice.” I nodded thoughtfully. “Thanks for sharing your management philosophy.”

  “Take it from me, Karsynn,” he said in a level voice, “the only management philosophy that does work is the one that acknowledges that none of them do. People and problems don’t fit into molds. So just be flexible, but at the same time, strive for consistency.”

  By now, the tip of my Marlboro Light had wormed back and I lightly tapped it, letting the ashes fall onto the side of the road.

  I really do have a lot to learn, I thought with a sinking heart.

  All too soon, dawn had sprouted and my worries began bleeding away with the night. The air grew even more electric and all around me, people were moving to a rhythm I could not follow.

  The sky turned pink and as I stared at the pale and watery sun that was rising in the horizon, I found myself thinking of Carter, surprised by how laid back and likable he was once he dropped the authoritative persona he usually wore like a cape.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Our guide at work, Ah Beng, spoke English as easily as if it were his mother tongue, though his pronunciation had an unmistakable Chinese cadence.

  “This way, please,” said Ah Beng, leading us down the tight corridor of Lightning Speed’s Penang call center. “How do you find Penang so far?”

  “It’s nice,” Carter responded with a warm smile. “It has a certain old-world, colonial charm.”

  “It does,” agreed Ah Beng as we turned and twisted through another corridor. “When the British were here back in the sixteenth century, they definitely left their mark.” He made a swift left and I tried to stay on his heels without actually knocking into him. “So what’s on the agenda today?” he asked.

  “For me it’s training,” I said, clutching a thick binder. “Training, training and more training.”

  Ah Beng turned to Carter. “Your reputation precedes you. I’ve heard you’re somewhat of a legend in this call center business.”

  “I can’t be a legend yet,” Carter said lightly, “I’m not dead.”

  I smiled. I appreciated Carter’s self-deprecating humor. And for the most part, I appreciated his presence here. While I constantly second guessed myself, Carter appeared thoroughly relaxed, at ease within the confines of his fiefdom.

  Quite frankly, my experience was limited enough to be dangerous. I was totally winging it.

  “Will you be joining me in today’s training class?” I gave Carter a smile that didn’t quite hide my nervousness.

  “No,” he replied. “I’ll be in meetings all day. But between you, Truong and Inge, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

  “Right,” I said with utter uncertainty.

  “Now listen up everyone.” I surveyed the training room. “As I’m going through this Nixus 2.0 training manual, please feel free to stop me if you have any questions.”

  “And,” Truong chimed in, “always remember that there are no stupid questions, although they are the easiest to answer.”

  Jami K. raised her hand.

  “Yes, Jami?” Truong prompted.

  “Isn’t that a bit of a paradox? First you state that stupid questions do not exist. Then you implicitly state that they do in fact exist.”

  “All right then,” Truong amended, “there are no stupid questions. Period.”

  “I have a question,” said Sandeep.

  Truong nodded encouragingly. “Go on.”

  “Should I eat a battery?”

  Mariam’s hand shot up. “What will happen if I leap off the Burj Khalifa?”

  Truong looked dejected, deflated almost.

  “Cut it out guys!” I admonished. “We only have two hours to go over this Nixus training manual before we have to move on to other subjects. So please! No more interruptions unless they are pertinent and add to the topic.”

  I sidled up to Truong and whispered, “There may not be any stupid questions, but there sure are plenty of inquisitive idiots.”

  After we had covered all the aspects of the Nixus 2.0 application, the agents were tested on their knowledge. When they were done with their tests, Truong, Inge and I graded them and handed them back.

  “Hey!” Jimmy Choo yelled from behind the class. “How come you failed me on the test? I filled in all of the blanks.”

  “You may have filled in all the blanks,” I said in a resigned voice and sighed faintly, “but your answers were all wrong, Jimmy.”

  Truong rubbed his temples. “I’d like to find the guy who first said there are no stupid questions
and shoot him.”

  I stood up, stretched my back and cracked my knuckles. Now it was time for the necessary evil: Sales Training.

  “Positioning,” I stated. “Who can give me some examples?”

  Becca responded, “A company positions itself for the future.”

  Jami added, “A product is positioned for the marketplace.”

  “I position myself for a promotion,” said Sandeep.

  “All good examples,” I acknowledged with a nod. “Here’s another one: You position yourself for a sale. Positioning is a matter of determining what someone is really buying when they buy your product or service and then conveying those impressions and motivations back to the buyer. A good salesman can take ten facts about a product and by stressing some and de-emphasizing others, create ten different impressions.”

  One hour later …

  I saw the glazed-over eyes and drooping eyelids. Mostly everyone had their heads propped up in their hands, as if the boredom was physically weakening them. One girl sitting near the front appeared to be scribbling down a shopping list. Two guys in the back had dozed off.

  This wasn’t the response I’d been hoping for.

  I sighed with heavy resignation, vividly recalling how that was me during the first week of training. So really, how could I blame them?

  Truong sidled up to me and whispered, “Do you mind if I wake them up a little?”

  “Not at all,” I replied graciously and stepped back to give him the floor. “Go right ahead.”

  “All right, class.” Truong clapped his hands. “Can I have everyone’s attention, please? Right. Good. We’re going to do a little bit of trivia. Can anyone tell me—who was the first computer technician?”

  The class responded enthusiastically.

  Becca’s hand shot up. “Alan Turing.”

  “Konrad Zuse,” said Mariam.

  “Bill Gates,” said Sandeep.

  “Steve Jobs,” said Jami K.

  “No, no, no. And no,” said Truong. “It was Eve.”

  Becca’s hand shot up again. “As in Adam and Eve?”

  “Yep.” Truong gave a crisp nod. “And can anyone tell me why?” He left a dramatic pause. “Take a wild guess.”

  “Um,” Sandeep hedged, “because Eve had an apple? Like a Macintosh Apple computer?”

  “Close,” said Truong wearing an impish grin. “It’s because Eve had an Apple in one hand and a Wang in the other!”

  With a strangled voice, I quickly stepped in before things got out of hand. “Truong, I think that’s enough trivia for today.” Then with a strained smile, I turned to face the class. “What say we throw you guys on the phones now? I think it’s time you started taking some calls.”

  I heard the low groans and moans sweeping through the class.

  “Excuse me.” Ifzan raised his voice amidst the cacophony. “If I don’t know what I’m doing on the phone, can I ask for help?”

  “Of course,” I replied.

  “Of course you can ask for help,” Truong echoed. “But there are certain limitations. For instance, it’s OK to ask for help but if you repeatedly ask for the same kind of help, then it might indicate to me that you have some sort of learning disability.” His perfect eyebrows arched in a question. “And we don’t want that, do we?”

  Ifzan shook his head fiercely.

  “All right then.” I clasped my hands and glanced around the room. “Let’s go take some calls!”

  Beep!

  “Thanks for calling Lightning Speed Communications, my name is Sandeep. How can I help you today?”

  “Are you from India?” asked the caller.

  “No sir. Are you?”

  I was listening in on the call and made urgent signaling gestures at Sandeep, but it was too late. The caller snapped, “Oh, so you’re trying to be smart with me eh, Sanjay Gupta?”

  “My name is Sandeep, sir.”

  “Whatever, Sanjay!”

  “Sir,” said Sandeep in a level voice, “you’d asked me if I was from India and I was just wondering the same about you.”

  “No,” the caller said sharply, “I’m not from India.”

  “OK,” said Sandeep bluntly.

  “But of course you’re from India,” blasted the caller. “I’m calling tech support, aren’t I? It’s like asking if New Zealanders like sheep.”

  “Huh?”

  “Is Mitt Romney a Mormon? Is Iran building nuclear weapons? Is Bill Gates rich?”

  “Yes,” Sandeep responded feebly, “I’m sure Bill Gates is rich.”

  “It was a rhetorical question, you idiot!” the caller barked. “You know, like: Does a bear shit in the woods? Is the Pope Catholic?”

  “Wh-whaa?” Sandeep stammered. “Are you asking me if the Pope shits in the woods?”

  The caller drew in his breath with a loud hiss. “YOU INFIDEL! How dare you commit blasphemy against the Pope?”

  “Sir …” There was an ugly pause until Sandeep continued with some hesitation, “Are you having a bad day?”

  “YES I AM HAVING A BAD DAY AND YOU JUST MADE IT TEN TIMES WORSE!”

  Click. The caller hung up.

  Sandeep turned to me with abject misery scrawled on his face. “I have no idea what he was so mad about.”

  “I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” I said gently and took a swig of coffee while I attempted to frame my response. “Sandeep, in the future, though, please try to keep in mind that it’s not only about what you say to the callers, but how you say it. When you’re on a call, the senses that the callers use to form an opinion of you and the company are reduced to just one—sound. And because of this, you need to watch your tone of voice.”

  “Point taken,” said Sandeep.

  “Granted,” I added kindly, “that customer was a moron and I understand it was a harmless question on your part, but still, just try to watch your tone next time.”

  “Understood,” Sandeep reiterated.

  I took another swig of coffee and went on to listen to the next call.

  Beep!

  “Thanks for calling Lightning Speed Communications, this is Dominique. What can I do for you today?”

  “I need help with—” The line went fuzzy, cutting off the caller mid-sentence.

  “I’m sorry sir,” said Dominique, “come again.”

  “Well I can assure you,” replied the caller in a suggestive voice, “I have not come quite yet.”

  I made a note to coach Dominique on that later on.

  Somewhat flustered, Dominique steered the caller back to business, “Sir, what is the reason for your call?”

  “I can’t seem to log in to my account.”

  “Are you sure you used the right password?”

  “Yes,” affirmed the caller, “I’m sure. I just saw my brother use it.”

  “Oh,” said Dominique in some surprise. “Can you tell me the password your brother used?”

  “Sure,” said the caller, “it was five asterisk symbols.”

  I shook my head in sheer disbelief. In the first place God made idiots. This was for practice. Then he made computer illiterates.

  When the call had finally ended, Dominique exclaimed, “What an imbecile!”

  “Tell me about it,” I said wearily. “Oh and Dominique, next time please try not to use ‘come again.’ I know that may be what you’re used to, but instead, try using, ‘excuse me’ or ‘pardon me.’ Do you think you can do that?”

  Dominique nodded. “Of course.”

  “Thank you.” And then I was on to the next call.

  Beep!

  “Thanks for calling Lightning Speed Communications. This is Becca, what can I do for you today?”

  “I need help getting the date and time changed on my PC.”

  “I can help you with that, sir. First, I need you to right-click on your desktop.”

  “OK,” said the caller.

  “Now, do you get a pop-up menu?” asked Becca.

  “No.”

  “
All right, sir. Can you right-click again?” There was a fraction of a pause. “How about right now? Do you see a pop-up menu?”

  “Nope,” said the caller, sounding decidedly irritated.

  “Hmmm. Can you tell me what you’ve done up to this point?”

  “You told me to write ‘click’ and and I did.” The caller made an exasperated sound. “I got out a piece of paper and wrote down ‘click’.”

  Becca looked to me with tragic eyes.

  I gave her a respectful few seconds of silence so she could gather her thoughts and pull herself together. Then she resumed walking the caller through the steps until she hit another road block.

  “I’m stuck!” The caller’s voice was increasingly agitated. “What the hell do I do now?”

  “Can you tell me what you see on the screen?”

  “It says, ‘Hit ENTER when ready’.”

  “So click ENTER.”

  “Now?”

  “NOW,” said Becca through gritted teeth.

  “B-but,” the caller stuttered, “how do I know when it’s ready?”

  I really didn’t know whether to laugh or weep with frustration. And I wasn’t even the one helping the caller. Becca’s frayed nerves were almost at the end of their tether and she looked like she was on the verge of throwing in the towel. With shaky hands, she placed the caller on MUTE and turned to me. “I can’t do this, Karsynn.”

  “Yes you can, Becca. Take a deep breath,” I coached. “Deep breaths. Happy thoughts. Yes. Breathe out the sad … now breathe in the glad.”

  “Breathe out the sad,” she repeated slowly, “breathe in the glad.”

  “Better?”

  “A little.”

  “Good.” I reached over and patted her hand. “You can go back to the caller now.”

  “Right,” said Becca. “I can do this.” She gathered all her remaining strength and released the MUTE key. “Sir, just click ENTER whenever you are ready.”

  “Finally,” said the caller with a big sigh of relief, “I’m there.”

  Becca breathed out an even bigger sigh of relief. “Have I answered all of your questions today?”