Enough About Me... How About You? What Do You Think Of Me?
Wednesday, April 13, 2005OMG, I nearly had a heart attack (this has nothing to do with cholesterol, Mother)
So a big customer call yesterday with the big guns from the US / NB coming in. New customer – first time we’ve called on them. I am instructed to pick up the gang (various Vice Presidents) from their first call, which they attended with another sales guy and bring them to my call. So I show up, a half hour early, having carefully followed my Mapquest directions to the middle of nowhere and as I’m turning into the parking lot, I get a call on my BB from one of the VPs saying that their meeting finished early. Points for me – no one has to wait in the parking lot for me to show up.
I cruise up to the gang, and people start shoving stuff in my trunk. Small note – my trunk is also a minor storage space… I keep my golf clubs in their year-round… it’s a hell of a lot easier than hauling them upstairs all the time to my storage unit! Well, this morning I had a brainwave and decided to take them out and bring them upstairs just in case the boys had a bunch of luggage. Quite glad that I did because who throws his briefcase in my trunk and climbs into the front seat is none other than the owner of our company (The Big Guy). A bunch of you who know that The Big Guy does not exactly approve of golf, just laughed out loud. Beyatches!
We had a few hours to kill before the call so The Big Guy says “take us to a store before the sales call.” Uh, what the hell – I have a vague idea of where we are… and an even more vague idea of where we can go… So we head out, me driving, uh, sort of knowing where we’re going (with visions of headline news: “Woman kills The Big Guy in freak car accident, news at eleven” flashing through my head – I might be a bit of a terrible driver). The Big Guy asks if we’re taking Highway 7… I reply “I have no idea where Highway 7 is so no.” I should add that my sense of direction / driving style is more about having a slight idea of what direction I need to be going in, and then circling a bunch of times until I finally get there… the theory is aptly described in the book, The Curious Incident Of The Dog At Night.
Without even a minor screw up, I get us to the store… we visit, we grab Tim Hortons coffees, and I take us to another store before flawlessly (although frequently consulting my Mapquest directions while driving 130 km/h), taking us directly to our appointment where we arrive 15 minutes early. I am a rock star. A sweaty, nervous rock star, but a rock star nonetheless. Those of you from my hometown know what an anxiety-ridden experience this was for me (SJ Flames, who works for another part of the same company and one of the other owners is still laughing a the Highway 7 thing!). Anyhow, this has an even happier ending because the call went great and I now have a new account. Hurrah!
Posted by Brown Eyed Girl :: 12:11 PM :: 0 Comments: ---------------------------------------