As most people that work in any sort of "communicating with the client or customer" sort of job do, I come across a lot of interesting people that must assume the world revolves around them. I don't know if this is due particularly to ego, or lack of empathy and ability to understand the view from "another person's shoes," or if it's more a sign of ignorance, selfishness or complete disregard for people who have a very busy workday.
Despite my familiarity with "special" people, who demand and feel entitled to my undivided attention at any and all times they choose, and who expect nothing less than every favor and special consideration they can weasel out of me, I am still sometimes shocked at people.
Think for example, about someone who is on a deadline to begin working on a project. This person has a source of funding that requires notice of my office's approval before they can receive their funds or begin the project. This person submits a summary of his intended work in an incorrect manner, and in within a few days I notify him of this error, suggest a solution, and let him know to email when he's resolved it or if he has any questions. I feel that this is professional and kind.
A month or two goes by, and still no update. Finally, I receive a call today with a notice that the summary is still not ready, but a very, very concerned explanation that they are running out of time. Somehow this turns into disdain over how long it will take my office to get to the project (we process on a first come, first served basis, and we've had about 10-15 summaries come in per week, lately! We can only review 5 per week). Somehow, this is my problem (note the lag time between my initial response and the phone call today). And somehow, there is a strong expectation that it is my very job to bend over backwards, add hours to the day and magically reduce the burden on my board members at the same time.
Inevitably, this makes me feel powerful! I can do anything and everything asked of me! Why, if it were impossible, surely they'd have the sense not to request, nay, demand! Demand that I attend to their every (belatedly mentioned) need. Indeed, if they makes these demands I must be capable of meeting them. Oh wait, I'm not a space alien.
I imagine in the near future and for perhaps a year or so to come, I and my office will be the scapegoats that ultimately determined the failure or "less-than-perfect" nature of this project. Ah! if they'd had more time! If only we had been able to speed the process and give them special consideration (because they, unlike all other grant recipients in the world, are on a timeline...funny how that works). All because we dropped the ball and took too long (again, I remind you of the lag time...).
On the one hand, I have sympathy. I would like to endear myself to these people so that someday later on they say...ah! That lovely lady in the office, she was such a help! She made this project possible! And perhaps they'll consider giving me a shout out on future publications, or include me in the royalties of something fancy they're working on. But then, that would be my over imaginative, high dreaming, idealistic self getting the best of me. Likely, if they think of me positively it will be that I'm a less hated one among a hated group. You know, because it's just awful to concern one's self with the safety of human beings. And after all, researchers know best. We're just here to make their jobs more difficult.
My MIL pointed out once that she feels everyone should have to work a service job at some point in her life, because it provides a deeply valuable perspective on what it feels like to be yelled at and held responsible for something over which you have no control.
Whenever I feel myself getting angry with someone on a phone, I find myself thinking of this advice, and then thinking back to Thanksgiving 2007 when I was nearly moved to tears and harsh words after being blamed for someone's mistake. My most recent use of this memory came when speaking to the unhelpful woman at the USPS office, who, in response to my query about why my package's delivery status had not been updated in 3 business, and why my package had not been delivered (a chronic problem for Mr. K and I), she proceeded to read the line from the tracking website, then said "so that means" and then repeated the line again. Were I blind, or unable to read, or particularly daft, this might have had the beginnings of being a helpful encounter. Luckily, she figured out that filing a complaint and connecting me to the local office where my package was last recorded to have been would be more helpful. Her computer promptly crashed and then I got to redo the entire process with her supervisor, who had a voice that led me to believe she's about 4 feet tall, weighs nothing soaking wet and has very large blond hair. I'm sure she was also wearing pink lipstick and a cute outfit. She was also surprised at my every answer. Your address? oh! ok...(interesting! you live there?? who would have thought!), and you last name? oh! ok!... (wow! what a name! I had no idea you had one! gosh golly, gee whiz!)
Alas, there is a package at the post office awaiting my pick up. We shall see if it is "the one."
Oh, and Thanksgiving 2007? How could I end without sharing that gem of a story?! Well, it so happens that on that day, the hotel I worked in had 2 lunches. A set menu in the restaurant (more expensive) and a buffet in the ballroom. We had a very disorganized, handwritten list of the folks who had reserved tables and seats at each one, and this woman's name was on (gasp!) the wrong list (according to her). Now, the restaurant and our hotel are 2 separate business, and we do not make reservations for one another. And the morning of Thanksgiving, there were no seats left for her to make a swap. She proceeded to accuse me of reserving the wrong lunch for her, and then claimed I ruined her family's Thanksgiving (never mind that she was screaming at me, while I was working on Thanksgiving, instead of spending time with my family, or the fact that she made the error). She came back several times to waggle her finger in my face and yell at me some more. Just so I knew how awful I was, and how much I'd ruined her family's holiday. She was eventually escorted, kicking and screaming, from the premises and is no longer invited to dine or stay at my former place of employment ever again. Go figure.
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