Scratch a Salesman, Find a Guy that Makes You Want to Strangle Yourself Slowly

I love my job. I really really do. I don't like working, but as far as jobs go, as long as I have to have one, this is one of the best I've ever had. So I hate to bitch about it too much and ruin my karma, but I thought my boss was going to make me insane today.

This is the first time in many years that I've been doing something besides accounting. When you're in accounting, you sort of do your own little thing. Nobody quite knows what you do, and they are afraid to ask. When you tell them "no", or "this is the rule", they rarely argue. They may not like you, but they know you have some vague, unspoken authority behind what you say. I've always had a supervisor, of course. Almost everyone reports to somebody. But when you're in accounting, your immediate supervisors are often kindred spirits, and as long as you do things right that's about it. Your job description never gets shaken up.

Now of course that gets very boring, which is why I've been a bit of a job hopper the past few years. It's also why I was and am so happy to have found this job. I do different things all the time. Sometimes I'm in the back room in jeans putting together shipments, sometimes I'm helping close a sale, sometimes I'm helping the data entry department decide which customers we can delay just a little bit longer. And always, I'm answering that damn phone. I love almost all of it, and I especially love that just when I get bored, something else comes up (reading this, I'm wondering if some Ritalin wouldn't help?).

But my immediate boss, the one I really truly work for, is Tom the Salesguy. He doesn't keep me supplied with full time work, but he's the one who gets my priority when he needs it. Tom started this company way back when, and sold it to the current owner a couple years ago. He stayed on with us as the VP of Sales, as he knows this product better than anyone, and is the type of guy who never could have been anything but a salesman. Simply put, he's great at what he does. He's super nice too, and his strong resemblance to Kenny Rogers certainly encourages the affinity I feel for him (side note: I found this site that I may have to submit him to). He calls me "Hon", and I imagine that if we were 30 years ago he'd be slapping my ass when I walked by his desk, and calling me "that cute gal down at the office". But still I'm rather fond of him.

Today I had to make hotel reservations for Tom. I spent literally 2 hours of my afternoon on this simple project, and was banging my head on the desk by the time I was done. I found what seemed to be a perfectly nice hotel on Expedia, one of the cheapest around, and it was just down the street from where he needs to be. I had his credit card number already, but when it came time to book the room, Expedia asked for a login. Here's where I made my mistake. Instead of just signing up and taking care of it, I decided to call Tom and ask if he already had an account (thinking that perhaps there was some kind of reward program). When he found out I intended to book him in a Travelodge, he became very unhappy. And besides, he said, he thought that was a pretty pricey rate and that we could do better than that. In downtown New Orleans. Ok. He told me to find something nicer, so I then found a room at the Radisson, fairly close to the event, for about $35 more a night than the first choice.

Too expensive. Find something cheaper, and don't worry about the location, in fact, get it out by the other place he's going to visit that's on the other side of the airport.

At this point, I ditched Expedia and called the Holiday Inn Reservations Center. Would you believe they have 18 hotels in the New Orleans area? My call was taken by a nice young man named Jason who listened to my plight and requirements, and set about finding me a good price at one of their hotels. He even took the addresses of both meeting places, so he could make sure that we got one in the middle. When all was said and done, my new best friend Jason found Tom a room directly between the 2 locations, right by the airport, for $30 cheaper than our first try.

Of course, Tom thinks that's too far from the first meeting.

But, he said just to leave it at that, and it will be nice for getting to the second meeting. After writing all this down and re-reading it, my head exploding rage has subsided, and I'm ok with Tom. It wasn't that many changes I suppose, but it took a huge chunk out of my very busy afternoon, and now I will be in bad shape tomorrow morning. But hey, he said next week when he gets back, he'll teach me some tricks to cheap rooms and cars that he's learned over all his years of travelling.

Oh Tom, what adventure will you send me on next?

You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em,

Know when to walk away and know when to run.

You never count your money when you're sittin' at the table,

There'll be time enough for countin' when the reservation's made.