The Art of Dealing with People

[pdub]

I'm sitting here thinking......I've been in a lot of situations, everybody has been in situations.

For a week at a time, they made me be the supervisor. The real supervisor went off for a week of vacation. He decided I'd be a good replacement for him. It was as easy as that, I was chosen.

6:00 a.m., the meeting in the office. All the supervisors. What in the hell am I doing in this room? I was briefed, this and this and this and this, I was writing on a little note pad, I'll never remember all of this. I've got to prioritize.

Finally at about 9:00 a.m. I got to the control room downstairs. There were.....1, 2, 3, maybe 7 guys in there. And they were pissed. I hadn't taken care of something, some minor thing that they thought was a big thing. They were all looking at me, in anger actually. This was a test but I didn't realize it. These guys were all my buddies last week, but this week is different. They wanted to see what I was going to do.

I said, Guys I'm overwhelmed. I'm new at this. I'm sorry, you are on my list. I even showed them the list.

They liked that. All it took was that much attention and they said I was the best boss they ever had. I don't know why I'm thinking about that while I'm not sleeping tonight. I'm never going back to work again, I don't know why I'm thinking about that or why it even matters.

Maybe, just don't fight and argue with people, just be honest every time. It'll all come out better in the end.

[RockJustRock]

A collection of yellow Corvettes, just because.

[SuperBuickGuy]

I just send the sheriff to their little room with a notice. Calms them right the hell down.

[RockJustRock]

Before EVERYONE smart went to College factories used to be a magical place for some people who didn't go to college. Most guys in a factory just did a job, got paid enough and did it until they retired. THAT job was all they ever wanted to do for pay, all the responsibility they wanted to take on, all they wanted to have to think about. Other guys just kept getting tangled up in other parts of the factory, working their way in and out of those tangles and if there weren't any College graduates hanging around they got promoted. Not a lot you can learn about a factory in a College anyway. Too bad almost every kid at least tries to get through College these days. I think it messes up more than a few factories.

[silver_bullet]

You showed them that you were willing to listen....not necessarily agree, but at least listen....that is always a welcome trait in leadership! As far as thinking about it when you can't sleep, the good people always revisit their actions to see what they can improve in the future....

[pdub]

A collection of yellow Corvettes, just because.

If that's drawn to scale, I didn't realize that in 65 years the Corvettes have gotten about four times larger.

[RockJustRock]

Re-reading your post.... Tests.

When you start working in a factory young you are "The Kid". Then as time passes and you age you become one of "The Guys" and anyone younger than you is "The Kid". When the factory I worked in ten years closed I got a job in a warehouse operation. I actually snuck in because when they ran an ad for help they wanted a "Kid" they could call in part time. I knew a guy there who got me in just to take an inventory and since the business was doing good and I had that "Tangle Factor" I ended up working more hours than the guy they hired from the ad did anyways.

Time wore on the place got bigger, other "Kids" were hired. We got more customers in more places, bought some other operations out, opened some too. One day a "Kid" that had been there only a month or two was in an ugly mood. I asked a supervisor what was up and he told me we were opening in Phoenix and "The Kid" was upset he wasn't considered. Previously it had come up that the reason we were doing that was we had a local person we were working with there and she went rogue and opened her own place with our competition. I opined it would behoove us to hire another local. That's what was done. I joking told the boss "If you DO ever open in LA though, be careful, *I* might get ugly". We laughed because I was still just a "Floater". A guy who could do any job there and was interesting to talk to.

A few months more passed and an area was cleared out and some tables set up. The bosses said "We are considering setting up a second packing line and would like you and that other guy to try it out". The angry kid was less than enthused, but I was ALL OVER it. Try this, change that, running my butt ragged. A week later the tables were gone. Bosses pulled me aside. "How would you like to go to Phoenix?". To help local guy, I asked. "No, to BE Phoenix" they replied.

Magical...

[RockJustRock]

If that's drawn to scale, I didn't realize that in 65 years the Corvettes have gotten about four times larger.

To appreciate art you must appreciate perspective.

I appreciate how MUTANT the C7 looks.

[Barry Donovan]

good to keep memories pdub.

that was one of those moments that went up and never came down.
precise and worthless most everywhere.. but it did add to your long job

[Eric]

Dealing with people is overrated .
Maybe That's why I work when the city sleeps.
The jury is out on that one.

[corvettedad]

Everyone needs to work with the public at least once in their life, it'll give you a whole different veiw on this world we live in.

[67 Malibu]

When I retired from my full-time job at the local Air National Guard, I went to the closest O'Reilly's & applied for a delivery job. I had to wait a couple of years to get the Military part of my retirement. So I needed to supplement my meager retirement. After I aced their automotive knowledge test, I was immediately hired. At the time, I did not realize how fast that their employee turnover rate moved. They started trying to get me to work the counter almost immediately. But after being around the counter action while pulling parts for delivery I didn't want anything to do with that. Too many people that don't even know what the brand of the car that they drive is. I always wondered how the hell are they going to put the part on the car if they have to have the counter guy walk outside to see what kind of car that they are driving! BTW - I had allso applied at the nearest Auto Zone & the manager gave me a verbal automotive aptitude test. Nice guy. Until I started going into more detail with my answers than he knew & I started to get the deer in the headlights look out of him. Never heard from him again. I talked to one of his counter guys a few weeks later & he said that the guy was afraid that I might take his managers job from him. No freaking way!!!!!! Oh yeah, everyone should experience the pleasures of working with the public!

[fatguyzinc]

i was a doorman (bouncer, club security, whatever....) for 24yrs straight,
so my way of dealing with people is like 'the rock' in the movie 'the rundown'--

choice #1--you can do (whatever it happens to be) now, NICELY, and we are all good.
or choice #2--i MAKE YOU.

lotsa people"think" they want choice #2--untill it starts happening.

its surprising how quickly attitudes change when the first clue that you
arent just talking sh@t is a nice stiff b@tch slap that leaves them disoriented
for a few seconds, then starts stinging like heck--and thats right when you grab
a handfull of whatevers available-hair, shirt, jacket, b@llsack, WHATEVER-- and drag em
kicking and screaming out the door............

i kinda miss the life, honestly. my personal theme song as i walked into the club
every night ( like a WWF wrestler entering the collesium, hah hah ) was nickleback's
"here comes the next contestant". and i was lucky enough to retire undefeated.

as archie bunker sang, "those were the daaaaaaaaaaaays"................
alas, now im just fat and old.

[Loren]

What Goes Around Comes Around...sorta

At 19 and bored with running a turret lathe in a machine shop, a friend set me up to try out a job at a tiny auto repair shop just starting out which ostensibly specialized in foreign-autos, particularly expensive British ones, but in fact took any job that might come through the door. I was immediately handed some old giant Buick from about 1970 (this was in '79) and told to have the heads off by 11am, which I did and then that was my new place of employment. I soon discovered that taking apart a Jaguar or Bentley was about the same as taking apart a Chevy or anything else at-least in that era, it was all an interesting experience and yes I got them back together right. But as I've said to a handful of people over the years, in the Big City an honest mechanic can make a good living; a dishonest one can do better. Something my boss would be giving regular lessons in.

So there was this nice-looking '68 Mustang a guy just bought the day before, with cream-yellow paint which meant it came from a particular used-car dealer nearby who had everything he took in that needed a paint job done in that color. It probably needed some issue noted at the purchase fixed. I put it on our new-fangled above-ground twin-post lift to do some work underneath and up it went. Click...click...click...and then a noise that wasn't supposed to be there.

I peered around over to the driver side. The door...I hadn't thought to fully latch the door and on the way up it swung slightly open, enough for the chrome handle to just catch on a box-shape protrusion at the top of the lift and get ripped about an inch right out of the sheet metal. Two small bolts normally hold the handle in, and they had both torn through and left the handle hanging. Fortunately I had stopped the lift soon enough to prevent worse but that much damage was done.

"Boss, I'm an idiot". He stared back blankly from his office chair. "Come look what I've done".

He got up and went to the scene, I didn't know what trouble I was in for. But looking at the mess I'd created he just rolled his eyes and said something like "Oh that is nothing", and "Just fix it". Huh?

I lowered the car back down, opened the door the rest of the way, took out the interior panel and with a hammer and block of steel I pounded the torn-through holes back flat again. It did come out sorta OK. Then I refastened the handle with washers behind the bolts. All assembled, the handle functioned and there wasn't much evidence of the damage except for one very noticeable large crack in the thick cheap paint, directly under one of the bolt holes.

When the customer came back for his car they were all out in the parking lot and my boss made it a big point to take time and admire the Mustang, while it's new owner beamed. I lurked away about 20 feet watching discreetly. Boss walked around the car, pointing out this, that...how nice everything was...until he got to the previously ripped-through door handle and the telltale crack in the finish.

"Too bad about that, though. It's really the only thing wrong with the car." Boss acted just as if it had always been there. Car owner's eyes got big. "Oh-my-God, I didn't notice! Wow..." He would drive away disappointed that he hadn't seen the flaw before buying the car. The Boss gave me a tiny, cursory smirk on his way back into his office to resume normal business.

----------------------

I would only last about six months at that shop. I really enjoyed the nuttiness and general experience (I met George Barris! Fixed the fuel pump on his Rolls!) but the sometimes-blatant dishonesty got to me and there were deeper undertones that needed to be moved along from, never mind it was my policy at the time to not stay in any one place long. I next went to driving trucks for a roadworks contractor, then doing repair and even complete body and paint in my parent's back yard, then eventually wound up at a precision metal fabrication facility I had wanted to work at. It's hard to be too dishonest in the manufacturing business, there's a drawing, a price, and a completed part either to spec or not. No tricks to that. I stayed and went from newbie to shop foreman in about ten years.

Parts produced were usually on the smallish side, those destined for local customers would get boxed up and put on a metal rolling table for the delivery guy to wheel out into the parking lot and load in the company van. Sometimes there were lots, and the place could get crowded. By-the-way my very pretty '70 SS El Camino with it's deep burgundy paint and clearcoat with black stripes sat in the #2 parking position near that door. One day the owner of the company motioned me out to there while I was nearby.

"You know, I really like your car", he said. "Gosh, it's beautiful". Why, I never knew that was something he would notice, and was flattered. He went along both sides, pointing things out like this chrome part, that way the light reflected in the paint, really taking his time to show appreciation. I beamed. Then he got to the front. Right where the hood peaked, there was a small dent and a medium-size paint chip smack on the edge. His face dropped a little. "Too bad about that though..."

He acted as though the dent had always been there, like he'd even noticed it before. In-fact it was fresh, I'd have seen it. Also it was pretty-much exactly the height of the steel rolling tables the shop used to transport parts. Through all this the delivery driver who handled such things lurked near the door...discreetly...about twenty feet away. Maybe...just maybe, I saw this guy who had been admiring my car so much give him a little smirk as he passed along back into the building.

-------------------

It didn't bother me too much, the dent and chip 'cause...that's how it goes, I could fix it. But I might have given Mr. Owner a little extra-long look in the eye at the next meeting, just to let him suspect I was wise to his-and-the-delivery-guy's deal. Thanks, Old-Boss, for teaching me that one.

Interestingly, I seemed to get along with both him and the driver just a bit better after that.

[pdub]

I'm going through my files trying to find more photos from the BS gathering in Brighton. I know I've got them but my filing system on the remote drive is a mess. Always has been.

Anyhow, en route to searching I found something else, I think it belongs here. My role at work was training coordinator. But it was like an onion in description, I ended up doing a whole lot of everything else. I was facilitator, advisor, secretary, coffee boy, copy boy, envelope stuffer..... it went on and on.

I was trained in a whole lot of things. One of those things was Root Cause Analysis. So we have an issue. something we need to sort through. Systematically. Everybody put your idea or suggestion on a post-it note and stick it to the wall. This was a two-day session, about a dozen people, brainstormers. I got there first (to get the coffee going) and I left last (I had to lock up the building). At the end of the first day I took a photo of the room. Just look at this. That's my chair in front of the computer. All of this trying to save what is essentially a dying industry.