As I recently started a second job, and the training process that goes along with it is concerning a subject matter that I’ve never worked with in-depth, I’ve taken to scribbling down the key details that will be prevalent in the gig. My notes include topics as constricted as how to operate a certain model of phones, to ones stressed by my training manager even though I find them to be the type filed under the “common sense” category. Hey, you never know when common sense will fail you and you’ll have to rely on the written word.
I’m bad with names. It’s always been a problem that I’ve taken great seriousness in fixing. Back when I was manager of the high school swim team I had to take attendance when everyone was swimming. Now, usually its really easy to tell people apart, especially women, but the men always had the same haircuts and therefore less that I could use as an identity cue. But once they were in the water and wearing their swim caps I could only tell gender. Learning their names was next to impossible, but I worked on it.
Names at work are something I can’t take quite so long to figure out. When you’re in a pinch and need to single out a manager or supe you should most likely use his/her name. For the first day of training I wrote their names with descriptions of them or personality quirks. The lead trainer has obviously been handling customer calls for too long since she breaks up every few topics with a curt, “hold please.” At least in my book, this has become her moniker. Then of course, there’s Minaj-the girl with the two-toned hairdo and Specs-the girl donning as badass a set of spectacles as I’ve ever seen.
I usually keep my nose clean and stay extremely studious during the training period; there’s no way I want my supervisors to think I’m a goof, even though I am. Don’t get me wrong, there’s a time and place for workplace humor, but it definitely doesn’t belong during the training phase. I slipped up though. Hold Please was leading a line of us out the door to visit our cubicles when Specs started singing, “following the leader, the leader…”
On impulse, I chuckled to myself and said, “I hope there’s no wind.”
Hold Please shot me a sidelong glance as I passed her at the door, “Wind?”
Then, knowing that I’d assumed incorrectly about her knowledge of a certain YouTube video, I had to awkwardly explain my train of thought. Well, I don’t think you can fully grasp the hilarity of a trail of employees when someone’s singing “following the leader, the leader…” until you see the clip. Turn the speakers on.
There are just random moments in which I can’t keep the hilarious thoughts from spewing out of me. I am forced to share. I hope my cubicle square doesn’t mind me livening things up.
Sitka or Bust: Commute The World 