Working with Dickheads- A Five Thousand Part Series

 

A few years ago, I worked a job in sales. It’s not important what I sold; all sales jobs are the same. You’re essentially an underpaid drug dealer. People either know what they want, and you’re there to smile and collect their money, or they just want to have a look at the product. If all they want to do is look, you’re there to push something on them they probably don’t need, and have no clue how to use. Then you collect their money with a laugh. The job isn’t important though; it’s a particular dickhead at the job I’m here to talk about.

This dickhead went by the name of Jim, which is short for Jimmy, which is another word for dick. So I really should’ve seen this coming, and now I’m wondering if he’s actually a good guy who never stood a chance, because his parents are dicks.

Jim had been working this sales job for ten years when I was hired. So needless to say, he was higher than me on the food chain. He made sure to remind me nearly every day. If I had a dollar for every time I heard, “you have to defer to me, because I’ve been here longer,” then I wouldn’t be writing a story about this dickhead, I’d be friggin rich.

I wasn’t initially hired for sales. I was a customer service rep; the true hero of sales. The customer service people are the ones who get yelled at by pissed off customers, and have to put out the fires the sales people create. As I learned the products, I quickly grew into a sales role, along with continuing my customer service duties. The staff was often shorthanded, so when all the salespeople were busy, I sold too.

According to Jim (not the TV show, but the dickhead), I wasn’t allowed to sell new products, because Jim didn’t want me taking his money. If a customer had a question, I had to check with Jim before answering. He wanted to make sure it was a question that could lead to a potential sale. If it couldn’t lead to a sale, he didn’t care.

There was one instance when a co-worker from our sister store called, asking about stock. I wasn’t sure of the answer, so I asked Jim–who asked me– “Is it a customer? If it’s a customer, I’ll talk to them,” It wasn’t a customer, and he didn’t answer my question. There were also times when he would be busy, and I would talk to customers, just to give them the lay of the land or answer any general questions while they waited for him to free up. When he was free, instead of thanking me, he ran over to where we were standing, and said, “I’m here now, bye.” If you told Jim that Usain Bolt was trying to take a sale from him, there would be a new fastest man in the world.

Another fact about Jim. He was concerned with his sales, but never wanted to put in the work to get them. He didn’t want to answer the phone or greet anyone; he left that all up to me. I was fine with answering phones and greeting customers, because that’s something a customer service representative should do. But when I’m on the phone, and it’s ringing four or five times, and he’s busy clipping his nails, that’s a problem. And he wanted me to greet customers, but he didn’t want me to greet customers who could be potential big sales. So whenever a customer walked in the door, I had to use my mind reading powers to figure out if they were going to spend $5 or $5,000 before I greeted them, or let him greet them. Thank God I have those powers.

At one point, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I knew I wouldn’t sell a lot of big ticket items, which was fine, so I concentrated on smaller items. I told the manager my plan, and he was on board. He thought it was great I was showing initiative. Plus, the smaller items had been neglected over the years by Jim and the other salespeople. Not enough commission to be worth their time.

I didn’t want to prevent the other sales people from selling the items; I would just prefer if they deferred to me if I wasn’t busy. This allowed me to make a little extra commission, and allowed them to focus on the bigger items. It made sense; they always complained they were too busy, and didn’t have enough free time.

I let Jim know my plan, and told him I’d cleared it with the manager. He thought it was a great idea.

The next day, the manager pulled me into his office and asked, “did you tell Jim he’s not allowed to sell the small ticket items?”

This crybaby went to the manager, and all because I was taking maybe $5 a day out of his pocket, even though he was earning thousands of dollars a week.

I couldn’t help but laugh. Jim was not only a lazy dickhead, but he was also a two faced coward.

I don’t know what happened to Jim. I do know Jim only cared about himself. Going by that, my best guess: he now owns the place.

---

 

Kevin Hash is a lazy writer who has plenty of friends, and is now
looking for money. He refuses to put anyone over except his friends,
and can write his way out of any situation. Always carries a big pipe
and is too sweet.

Link: https://jeremylambert88.wordpress.com/