New Orleans – Round 1 | missylouniverse

That’s kind of how my week’s been going…

Its seriously been a whirlwind week. I started full swing into what we call “blitz” where I have to go out and meet 250 different accounts in a 3 month period. It was overwhelming at the beginning to think about, but now that my lovely trainer has come in for 3 days and gone, I’m feeling much better about what the heck it is I’m actually doing. We got 18 “sales calls” done in 2 days. Not too shabby!

The week started with a team conference call… apparently these happen every Monday. Now I know. I had hardly any idea of what they were actually talking about on this call. Hopefully they’ll get better. I’ve been e-mailing questions to my director whenever they come up, I’ll get the hang of it one of these days. I was working from home all day, expecting a FedEx delivery (because I had to sign for it). The way my apartment building works is – its completely secure, you have to have a key fob (sensor) to open the doors or you search my name/apartment number on the fancy schmancy call box right next to the door. That call box then calls my cell phone (supposedly) and allows me to open the door for you without getting my butt off my couch… (my butt has already indented the couch cushion…. I need some friends).

Well… guess what, FedEx never calls. So I head online to check the tracking information and get a sad picture that the package could not be delivered because “the customer was not home to accept or the business was closed”. ummmm hi friend. I’ve been here all FREAKING day waiting for you. So I make a not so nice phone call asking why nobody ever tried to notify me that the package was trying to be delivered. “oh, we’re sorry for the inconvenience, the driver is new, your regular driver is on vacation. We can re-attempt delivery tomorow”. Great. lets do that, and better yet, even though my cell phone number is ALREADY ON THE LABEL OF THE PACKAGE. I’ll give it to you again. “great, we’ll have the driver call this number when he reattempts…. Do I get a call Tuesday? If you guessed NO, you’d be right. So I’m super pissed now. call again. tell them to hold it at the facility (30 minutes away) and after working all day, skipping lunch, and going crosseyed looking at saleslogix… I finally head out to pick up the package – which is my work cell phone…. you know, the one all my clients will be calling… and have been calling since the last BDM left.

But lo-and-behold, when I finally got home…. I had a GIANT box waiting for me at my door… It was the IKEA Bar Cart I ordered (it was $40, WITH shipping)…. guess who it was delivered by? YUP. FedEx…. w.t.f.

I have a love-hate relationship with FedEx stemming back to my Redskins days….

Wednesday was my first day really “on the job”. My trainer talked… non.stop. the entire day. She’s a fabulous, tiny, loud, Cuban woman who has no volume switch. She babbled a lot this week, just talking in circles, and she talks louder to be heard over the GPS that’s trying to tell me where the heck I’m turning… but the information I was able to absorb was truly truly helpful. She helped me organize my storage unit AND my car (I got a NASTY paper cut during this). She taught me what programs to use to plan out all my sales calls, where to find my clients (go by zip code), and how to conduct a sales call, among other online tidbits.

I got in my first 7 sales calls and my first Window Display! I’m also going back to one client whose office is on Canal Street to get them to put up some full window displays. whoop whoop!

Today was crazier, we ended up doing 11 visits (sales calls). A lot of these agencies seem to be home-based. Just normal people working travel part-time (or full time) out of their own homes. It was nice to meet the few I could, and they’re all super fantastic so far. I’m looking forward to getting out there more in the coming days. Only thing is, next week is SUPER busy. I’m headed back to Alabama (I had a bridal show last Sunday in Birmingham, 10 hours of driving for a 3 hour show) for another show, sales calls, and an update meeting with an agency. My director is coming into town to help me too which is awesome. I still don’t have a gas card though… or a maintenance card… and my tires are under-inflated. sweet.

Lets get to this evening shall we? I came home, was finishing up my calendar, got some Chinese food from the place below my apartment and came back to work some more. At one point, I decided I needed to go to my company car and my personal car (tangent: auto insurance is HELLA expensive down here, and its only for 6 month contracts). So I grabbed both sets of keys and walked out the door then said (out loud, yes, I talk to myself) “wait. key fob” *door clicks shut, tries handle* SHIT. its locked. Oedipus*…. damn door is locked. Because I’m paranoid and lock it from the inside. OK, think think think. this isn’t college, damn, I don’t even have my cell phone. way to go moron…. I knock on my neighbor’s door and what sounds like a chihuahua starts barking at me behind the door. ooooookay nobody home. Next door, oh! this is where the older woman lives that dad and I met moving in. ok, don’t be awkward. little kid answers the door, I ask “is your mom or dad home?” weren’t people just asking me that like… a year ago? “Hiiiiiiiiii, I don’t have my phone and I locked myself out of my apartment… do you by chance have the number to call? and can I borrow your phone?” so I get a business card with a cell phone number, call it and then call security’s number to let me back in.

At this point I’m super embarrassed and decide to ride out my shame by standing by my sad, locked door. OOH! There’s a paperclip on the floor, hey, I have an extra wire keyring on this set of keys. Maybe I can stretch these out straight and pick the lock! genius idea right? Assholes on TV/in the movies make it look SO easy…. Its about getting the tumblers into the right positions….

Lock – 1, Missy and her sad paperclip – 0. It would have been an awesome story if it worked though. “yeah, I can pick a lock with a paperclip. Just call me MacGyver, bitches”