Work Daze

Are you a people person, an outgoing glad-hander who performs best when standing toe-to-toe when having a conversation? Or are you a mail male or female, someone who is shy and retiring in person, but absolutely blossoms when you can hide behind a letter or an e-mail?

Or could you be a telephone person? Can you pick up a telephone, and using your tongue as a rapier, effortlessly craft the perfectly-worded messages that effectively sells a product, a service or, most important of all, yourself?

I thought so.

Fact is, most of us are bumbling boneheads when it comes to presenting ourselves on the telephone. Our winning ways and charming personalities are completely lost in a string of “uhs” and “ahs” and “well, what I really meant to says.” Despite the high-tech telephone gizmos we stick in our ears, we have not progressed beyond that the shy, stumbling 12-year old who picked up the phone to deliver or receive an invitation to the 6th-grade dance.

Unless you’re in sales or customer service, your chronic phone freeze probably doesn’t much matter. But it could matter, big time, if you are trying to get yourself a new job and your potential employee insists on a telephonic pre-interview.

Telephone interviews are quite the trend. Your future employee understandably wants to see the cut of your jib before shelling out megabucks to transport your sorry stern to headquarters. And you must take phone interviews quite seriously, or so The Wall Street Journal suggests in Sarah E. Needleman’s recent “Career Journal.”

“Job hunters often mistakenly believe that phone interviews are less formal than face-to-face meetings, recruiters say. Yet they’re a critical first hurdle in landing a job.”

Will your faulty phone skills keep you from landing a big fish of a job offer, or will you leap over the interview hurdle with such panache that you are negotiating the thickness of the carpet in your executive suite before you hang up?

Here are some of Ms. Needleman’s tips:

Minimize Distractions

“If you have scheduled a conversation, plan to be in a quiet place,” a strategic staffing manager advises Ms. Needleman’s readers. He claims potential employees cannot feel your enthusiastic vibe when your chat is interrupted by “flushing toilets, clamoring dishes and barking dogs.”

I disagree. In an actual onsite interview, you have no choice but to reveal your slovenly, slacker self. But on the telephone, it’s “the theater of the mind.” Use the audio-only experience to present yourself as a dynamic, take-charge manager. Arrange for a co-worker to burst into your phone conversation with news of a “critical melt-down in the Topeka office.” Ask to be excused from the phone call, sit back, and count to ten. Then pop back on the phone to announce that you are terribly sorry, but you just had to put out a fire.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with management around here,” you comment. “They can’t make a move without me.”

Sharpen Verbal Skills

“Interviewers listen to clues indicating such qualities as passion for the job and professionalism,” another HR maven suggests. “Teen speak and other unpolished speech habits are a common knockout factor.”

Forgetting for a moment whether you even want to work in a company where you can’t call your boss “dude” or describe a strategic plan as “freakin’” to mention but two so-called “knockouts,” I see no reason why you have to as a PhD in linguistics (unless, of course, you are applying for a position as a PhD in linguistics.)

Let your potential employer know that you are a “regular gal or guy” by pointing out, say, that it’s difficult for you to discuss the position of chief auditor because you are so upset with that “total himbo,” Nick Lachley, for dating “a real hottie,” Lindsey Lohan, when it’s so obvious that Jessica Simpson, is still carrying a torch for her ex-husband babe-magnet. If you think an interviewer would rather discuss which accounting method you prefer, FIFO or LIFO, as compared to a sprightly discussion on the break-up of the year, you’re nuts.

Avoid Using A Cell Phone

A simple rule, but dead wrong. Use a cell phone and you can pretend to lose the connection when an difficult question comes up, like “ What do you do?” Or “Do you have any experience at all?” or “What’s your name?”

If that doesn’t work, you have only one option. “Sorry,” you say when opportunity calls. “Wrong number.”

It was in kindergarten that I decided that I lacked the personality and the desire to become a truly intimidating person. As result, I was not able to achieve every boy’s childhood dream of becoming a bully.

Like Ferdinand, the bull who refuses to fight, in the eponymous children’s story, my basically cheerful and cooperative nature has also prevented me from becoming a bully at work.

Lacking the basic ability to intimidate and terrorize, I was, naturally, no one’s idea of management material, and was thus condemned to having my peanut butter and jelly sandwiches ripped from my hands in the employee lunchroom, and my rare visits to the executive boardroom spoiled by “atomic wedgies.”

It was to counter my basic lack of punishing demeanor that I decided on an alternative strategy. Like the classic Charles Atlas advertising of the 20’s, in which the wimp on the beach transforms himself into a muscleman after having sand kicked in his face, I committed myself 100% of a program of physical fitness. It was a commitment that lasted a full 15 minutes at which point I realized that instead of lifting weight, I could be eating it.

And so began my rigorous regime of stuffing myself with cupcakes and candy bars and Ho-Ho’s and Twinkies. Thanks to this rigorous program of binging and not purging, I have added sufficient poundage to scare the watercress out of the slimmer-than-thou MBA-clones who occupy most executive suites.

You can worry about cholesterol, friend, but let me tell you, it’s worth a coronary to waddle into a conference room and know that if you can’t out-argue your boss, you sure as heck can sit on him.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I looked out over the edge of my triple-cheese calzone to discover an urgent email on how worker bees, like thee and me, can successfully keep weight off despite potential workplace “hazards,” like the food we are forced to inhale as we rush through airports, or the highly caloric buffets we spread out across our desktops as a reward when we loyally decide to work through lunch.

Since the corporate sponsor of the email was the buzz-kill crowd at NutriSystem, you really wouldn’t expect a panegyric to the heeling power of lemon-meringue pie. On the other hand, I decided there could be something to this business of being thin. The press release was full of so-called “facts” suggesting menacingly that being fat can lead to heart attacks, brain seizures, and major bouts of big-time depression. Since it’s highly depressing to come to work in the first place, I figured I could give up some valuable burrito time to review some NutriSystem tips to reduce our girth, get healthy, live longer, and work decades longer.

For example:

• Eat before you run out for a client dinner.

The idea here is to “fill your stomach with the right foods to prevent you from eating the wrong foods.” It’s a fine plan, but it never works. You fuel up with healthy soy milk yoghurt and organic kale smoothies, and then you get to the restaurant, where your client, not quite as enlightened as yourself, orders the triple-thick, 64-ounce Rancher’s steak, with French fries, baked potatoes, and an angiogram on the side.

What are you supposed to do? Order the wheat-grass salad with tofu dressing? You can’t nibble on a breadstick while your client stuffs her face, not without being branded a wimp, so you end up eating not one dinner, but two.

• Pack your lunch

Yes, bringing your lunch is a good way to control your calories, but be prepared for trouble unless you pack the appropriate food items. If you’re trying to project a power image, skip the egg salad. Rare roast beef is a better choice, especially if so rare the blood drips out over the edges of your Wonder Bread and pools on your desktop. Now that’s a manager!

• Keep a food diary

Writing down what you ingest could provide a Stephan King-like shock to your system. It could also help you identify the FDA-approved food groups you may be missing, like the chocolate cake group, or the banana split group.

Bottom line – if you lack the disciple to be very fat, thin could work. After all, the less of you there is, the harder it is to see you. And if they can’t see you, they can’t fire you.

Summer is in full swing, and it’s time for every employee to decide—is your boss ready to attend summer camp?

Remember, bosses mature at different speeds, and some simply need more time before you pack up their little suitcases and send them off on the bus. On the other hand, if your boss is ready, it would be a shame to deprive her or him of an experience that is not only great fun, but can lead to a greater sense of maturity and independence.

To help you decide, I turned to Penny Warner, the author of a “Parent’s and Kid’s Complete Guide to Summer Camp Fun.” Ms. Warner, a mother of two, who is also a spokesperson for GOODNITES® disposable underpants, tends to focus on the camp experiences of children during the bed wetting years, but I do believe that her developmental checklist does apply to all cranky, spoiled people who rule by tantrum, including our bosses.

Let’s check Penny’s checklist:

1. Shows a Desire

Does your boss seem dissatisfied with your performance? Are you bombarded with crazy criticisms and stupid suggestions on how you could do more, better, faster, and different? Clearly, it is not your fault. You are perfect. Therefore, your bosses constant carping must be hiding a deeper need—a desire to go to camp.

To confirm, next time your boss starts carping about trifles, like your perfectly reasonable habit of crawling under your desk for an after-breakfast nap, tell him that you’ve decided to divide the office into two teams, the Skins and the Shirts, for an all-company game of Amoeba Tag. If your boss starts pulling off his shirt and yelling, “I’m it! I’m it!,” he could be ready for camp.

2. Look for Signs of Independence

Penny Warner asks: “Is your child independent and self-sufficient?” I suggest you ask the same of your boss. Can your supervisor do things by himself? Can your supervisor do anything at all? You might want to try her out on a few simple tasks, like making a potholder, or weaving a basket out of twigs. [For a flexible and stylish basket material, try poison ivy branches.]

3. Be camp savvy.

For the bed wetter set, Warner suggests that you “research specific types of camps such as academic, leadership, sports, or art camp.” The same applies to your boss, bed wetter or not. Obviously, anyone who hired you is not ready for academic camp, though some basic education is mathematics might be useful for someone who thinks you can live on the pittance that is your salary. Leadership camp might be a good choice, assuming the mission of the place is to discover leadership traits and stamp them out. [Imagine the sense of reality that will descend on your boss when he falls off backwards from “Trust Rock” and finds everyone on his team has left to play red light/green light.

Sports camp could be a safe choice, but I recommend art camp, especially if the focus is on finger painting. Your boss would feel comfortable doing what he does now—make a big mess, getting endless praise for it, and then leaving the mess for someone else to clean up.

4.Prepare for Separation

“Let your child know that you will miss them,” advises Penny Warner,” but overemphasizing this may make him or her nervous.” A double ditto when sending the boss off to Camp Runamuck. If you make too big a fuss, your boss might begin to suspect you actually want them to go, perhaps for nefarious reasons, like the opportunity to have wild office parties, or do even less work than you do now.

This is the furthest thing from your mind, though a tragic dumping of your manager on a Junior Indian Brave canoe trip might leave some very attractive holes in the org. chart which could be filled by an employee with potential, like, for example, you.

5. Send Some Love

“Kids of all ages love care packages, no matter what the contents,” concludes Penny Warner, and I agree. Bosses are kids at heart, remember, and if they are cranky, overbearing, obnoxious, and just plain awful, know that while they are frolicking at camp, they are missing you. As for the contents of that care package. I agree with Ms. Warner – buy a bottle of really expensive scotch and a case of GOODNITES disposable underpants. Send the underpants and save the scotch. You’ll need it when camp ends and the boss comes home.

It’s that time of the year again: bees are buzzing, flowers are flowering, and our mailboxes are full of sizzling summer catalogs. I know that with your advanced fashion sense, you are probably focused on the high-style offerings of Lands End and J. Crew, but for me, the one catalog that says summer best is the 357-page, four-color extravaganza from ULINE Shipping Supply Specialists of Waukegan, Illinois.

I don’t know what I’ve done to put myself on the ULINE mailing list, but then again, I don’t why Abercrombie & Fitch sends a quarterly catalog to a man who can clear a beach simply by appearing in his Speedo. Certainly, it is not my job description that makes me a likely candidate to buy miles of stretch wrap, or pallets stacked high with 2 mil industrial poly bags, or the pallets themselves, for that matter, available this season in hardwood, pressed wood, or durable, thermafoam plastic.

The people who make those kinds of critical buying decisions have real jobs, and get very aggravated when a doofus like me gets involved. [Though I really don’t think it’s such a crime to suggest the blue rackable pallets, which are more costly, but do go so well with my eyes.]

What struck me so forcefully in this season’s “dream book” was how these so-called industrial supplies could accelerate the career path of white-collar workers like thee and me. For example:

Hazardous Waste Labels, 500 for $29.00

Looking for an effective way to rid your cube of management pests? Simply plaster the walls of your space with these scary-looking, nuclear skull and crossbones labels declaring the area a “BIOHAZARD.” Or choose the crossed-out fish icon for “MARINE POLLUTANT.” Nothing like the threat of contaminated sea sludge on their Ferragamos to make a Senior VP cut and run.

Medium Packing Boxes, $2.03 each in quantities of 500

Know how a vampire reacts to the sight of a cross? Nothing puts the fear of firing in the heart of a working stiff than a stack of cardboard boxes piled up outside their workspace. Pick the co-workers and managers you hate most; come in early, and distribute your 500 boxes. Chances are, half of them will just turn around and leave without ever questioning the layoff, and you’ll be left—master of all the empty offices you survey.

Expandable portable conveyors, 6-24 feet $1,799 each

Admittedly, a 24-foot, rolling, steel assembly line is a high-ticket item, but think of the many uses you’ll have for this highly desirable office accessory. Set it up outside your cubical to highlight all the work that passes through your workstation. At 5 PM, move it to the executive parking lot to relieve busy managers of the stressful task of walking to their BMWs. Use it in the warehouse at midnight to roll cases of paper clips and rubber bands from the office supply inventory to your trunk. With the prices you can get from selling cases of spring clips on eBay, your conveyor will pay for itself in a matter of weeks.

Polypropylene Bouffant Hairnet, 200 for $9.50

Say arrivederci to Armani and good-bye to Gucci. Here’s a fashion statement guaranteed to whisk you into the executive suite. These handsome hairnets demonstrate your seriousness of purpose, especially when combined with a beard hairnet (100 for $6.95), water-resistant shoe covers (150 pairs for $45), and a pleated surgical mask (50 for $10). Let your managers know that you, too, believe you’re too good to breath the same air as your co-workers. They’ll welcome you into mahogany Row with open arms—and respirators (2 for $9).

Though I’ve run out of space here, I’ve barely scratched the surface of the advancement opportunities available on every page of the ULINE catalog. For example, where do you think your facilities people get the name plates for office doors, and how difficult do you think it would be to make one for yourself as Executive Vice President for Advanced Visioning. And why not treat yourself to an order of those cool plastic convention badges (50 for $27 in quantities of 500.) Think how intimidated your co-workers will be when you start complaining about constantly traveling to high-powered events, or how easy it will be explain your absence from the office for three weeks at Christmas to attend the International Conference on Somnambulism in Cabo San Lucas.

Ready to order? Simply call Uline at 1-800-295-5510. Tell them Bob sent you.