Creativity in job security
Vail, CO, Colorado
Is Aston Kutcher in town? I was sitting at my desk recently, a normal morning. I got a call from a guy who introduced himself as my new major manufacturer copy machine service representative. With a stern and concerned voice, he indicated the model in our office required a safety recall and a retro-fit.
I’m like, “What? OK, all right, whatever.”
He said he’s at the airport and making his way to us — kind of like he was fighting the good battle and all. He asked for directions and I gave him several large markers that signal our location as a transit facility surrounded by pasture. He said he got it and he’d be right there.
I waited a few minutes and he called again and said,” I’m at the end of the runway and I don’t see you.”
I explained once more that we are located past the airport, not part of the airport in any way, but on the same side of the road as the airport. We discussed a nea-by cross road and a garden center on the opposite side of the street from us. I also explained the large brick organizational marker at the entrance to our multi-building, one-story site.
He said OK and kept driving. Then he called back and said, “Well, I’m at the Town Hall and I don’t see you.”
I said, “We are not a part of the Town Hall. We are located just before the Town Hall on the same side of the street.”
He said, “Oh, and I passed the garden center.”
And I said, “We are directly across the street from the garden Center and that we were a big complex with a bunch of buses parked outside.”
He said OK, and soon thereafter, finally zeroed in and arrived.
He walked in with a pleasant smile and a handshake, and apologized that his GPS wasn’t working. He was holding a black leather kind of grooming kit and a large heavy graded metal file (the kind for rebar and such).
I already wanted to laugh. I escorted him to the copy room and he walked up to the unit, eyed it like a safecracker and again explained the need for retro-fitting.
He pulled out the bottom paper tray (one of four) and pointed with his finger to a slightly uneven, beveled corner. Then he said, “See these? These will catch.” And he began filing that first bottom tray with smooth long intent motion.
I said, “You’re literally just going to file the plastic trays?”
“Yes,” he said. He was in there about 10 minutes, and then emerged again successfully. I thought “Backdraft” and Kurt Russell. He said goodbye and took his file heading for the next distressed account.
A few minutes after leaving, he called one more time, but then apologized for accidentally dialing. Safe copying in the hands of mastered professionals. Good to know. Check your drawers.
This is true.
Jill Ann Fryklund