Have
you ever given thought to fun you
have had on the job? What’s that you say – you don’t
remember any fun? Sorry to say, I had never given it much thought,
but as I began thinking about writing a few humorous stories from
my past, I began to realize that many funny things have happened
to me in my work life. In fact, I’m surprised at how much humor
I remember from my workplace, and how much more fun it made my
career. The truth is, there were days when I was saved by my fellow
employees and their humor. A good laugh can cure most any problem,
and I’m betting you feel much the same as me about that. Here
are just a few of the stories that come to mind from my time at work,
but I have many more. I hope you find them
entertaining.
I
will begin with my career in the insurance business, and if those
words, “insurance business,” doesn't make you shy away,
keep reading. It was a unique time in my life and it was downright
enjoyable as well. Instead of expecting relatives to become my first
customers, my company sold “fringe benefits”
(insurance policies) to small businesses, both owners and employees.
Believe me, I know my relatives appreciated that. First, however, I
think I should try to give you an idea of what my job requirements
were, so you will see why humor was so helpful to me. Many of our
specialists, including myself, were Chartered Life Underwriters
(CLU), which is a designation earned through ten college courses in
insurance. It’s a little tough to study and earn a degree,
while also working every day, but we claimed to be experienced
professionals, and thus we were expected to earn that designation.
So, while some were enjoying life during evening, or weekends, I was
often studying.
You
might think my business would be way more
serious than most, but I didn’t find that to be true. The one
thing that helped our business the most was the endorsement of
business trade associations. Most Kentucky associations were actively
seeking insurance benefits for their members anyway, and we were able
to design and implement several benefit plans for member firms, using
the power of numbers. Later in my career, I became a Senior Vice
President and Regional Sales and Marketing Director, and as such, I
serviced our trade associations and managed their benefit plans. Now,
don’t get discouraged; we will get to the humorous part soon,
but I hope these details will prepare you for the funny
stuff.
At one time, we had almost every trade association in Kentucky as
customers (9 or 10 of them), and I routinely worked with their
insurance committees, especially when medical plans were renewed. We
also offered a service of enrolling new employees as they became
eligible to enroll in their employer sponsored program, but we could
only afford to do so when the employer was paying a good portion of
the benefit costs. Those customers also received annual “benefit
communication” to their employees, reminding them of how much
their employer was contributing toward the cost of their benefits,
and how those plans benefited them. Of course, this often gave us
opportunities to sell additional, payroll deducted benefits.
Our
approach helped pay for the work we did for our employer-customers,
and it allowed employees to have all their benefits as payroll
deductions with their employer. We had additional discounted and
guaranteed issue plans available, saving the employee more money, and
even allowing some who were not insurable to provide plans for
themselves and their families. We went above and beyond on this,
being sure to note how much the employer was paying toward benefits,
as well as financial information about social security and workers
compensation.
As
you may have already gathered, it took quite
a large staff to accomplish our goals, and another of my jobs later
in my career was to manage that staff, which required hiring and
firing. Oh, man; imagine the fun I had with that; but that's an
entirely different story. Our account executives were the most
experienced of our sales force, making calls on business owners. In
other words, they called on business owner members and sold the
association programs that were endorsed by the trade association
insurance committees. It was easy to talk with most members, using
the phrase, “I’m calling on behalf of your (fill in the
blank) Trade Association.”
We
did indeed had a large
staff (50 or more) who did the very hard work of selling, enrolling,
communicating, and servicing the association benefits for employers,
and to employees, one on one. The field personnel who enrolled new
employees were called, Account Representatives, and they had to be
ready to enroll new plans, new employees, and new programs as they
were sold. As brokers, we had many insurance carriers covering
employees in almost every client’s business. In other words, we
might have five to ten insurance companies in a corporate program,
depending on the benefit plan the employer had approved. Each one of
the insurers in a program had their own applications, so perhaps this
helps give you a picture of how much work it took to sell and service
clients. A lot of paper was necessary.
That’s
the
last of the somewhat technical information I intend to provide in
this story, and at this point, if you’ve read this far, and
have decided to keep going, I know you will be glad there will be no
more of that kind of stuff. In fact, from here on out I’m going
to give you the lowdown on more of some of the humor in our business;
the kind of things that are bound to happen when you have so much on
your plate. My Lord, when I look back at all we had to do, I thank
God for the humor we enjoyed from time to time.
Maybe
my
writing should have started here, ignoring all the explanation of
what we did, but I think it gives you a better picture of what we
were dealing with. Let’s just say we were bound to make
mistakes, so we were always looking for something to lighten our
load. Now, some of what I am going to tell you simply happened out of
stupidity, the silliness that befalls us humans; let’s begin at
the beginning.
TRAINING
When
you have such a major
undertaking, you know you are going to have to receive a lot of
training, and I came aboard as an innocent, inexperienced AR (account
representative). Yes, we were the ones who had to do all the dirty
work of completing applications for every insurer involved in
covering the employees in an employer sponsored program. Part of our
role was to explain to each employee how a benefit works, thus all of
us inexperienced folks had to attend a week of classes in our home
office, in Nashville, Tennessee to learn about the programs we
provided. We were called rookies, amongst other things, and we were
the low life of the sales force, occasionally fitting into the “dumb
and dumber” category. A good sense of humor was a definite
requirement.
This
initial training week began smoothly enough,
but the night life in Nashville often called, making the training
days a little tougher; turning to late night honky-tonks and such was
not very conducive to learning, but no one was watching us at night,
so…. Here are a few examples of what occurred during the free
hours of training.
ALAN
Our
company thought it was good to
double up hotel rooms, you know, so we could get to know our fellow
agents a little better, at least that’s what they said. Of
course, it saved the company lots of money, but they didn’t
tell it that way. We figured that out all by ourselves. Now, I have
never been much of a drinker, but the peer pressure among the class
of account representatives made that part of life’s journey
essential, at least a time or two. I was rooming with my new, good
friend, whom we shall call Alan, and man, was that ever an experience
with alcohol I shall never forget. One of those nights during our
week in the home office, I decided to stay in the room after dinner.
I should say, I needed to stay in my room, to try to catch up on
something important to the learning process, restful sleep! I
remember being fast asleep when Alan came in that night, and I think
it must have been at least 2:00 or 3:00 a.m., if not later. Of
course, he had to wake me and fill me in on the adventurous time he
had that night, something I would rather not have heard, and as he
slurred his way through it, I kept nodding and dropping off to sleep.
Alan was a talkative guy, so it was not okay with him when I didn’t
respond. He shook me a time or two, and began talking louder,
probably thinking that would make me more attentive. He was wrong; I
just faked it. Anyway, at some point, he abruptly stopped talking and
ran into the bathroom, and I thought whatever he had drunk was about
to come up. Instead, he ran back in quickly to continue his story,
which again, I didn’t want to hear. My luck had run out. Now,
get this. He was suddenly drinking a fresh can of beer. I’m
still lying there half asleep, pretending I’m listening, and
then I began wondering where he got that cold beer, so I interrupted
and asked him, “do we have a refrigerator in our restroom (?).”
“No,” he says, so I say, “where’d you get
that beer?” “From the toilet,” he says. “From
the toilet,” I say? In the toilet, dumbass, in the toilet
tank,” he says. “And there’s a six pack in there.
Want one?” I politely said, “Hell no. I just want to
sleep.” “Alright, alright. Don’t get your panties
in a bunch,” he says, and he finally lets me go back to a
peaceful sleep, while he sits drinking his beer.
The
next
morning, I’m up bright and early, shower, shave and dressed,
ready for breakfast, and Alan is still asleep. Payback time!”
“Alan, Alan,” I say, as I shake him. “What, what
the hell,” he says. “You are going to be late, dude.
You’d better get your rear in gear, if you want some
breakfast.” “I’ve got breakfast in there in the
toilet tank,” he says, and he’s serious. He made it to
class on time, and even though he had beer on his breath, he looked
damn chipper. Unbelievable…
We
were warned there would be a
test on the last day, Friday, so Thursday night, as I go over my
notes and reading material, Alan is ready to hit the town again, and
doesn’t crack a book. Nothing. But as he is changing clothes,
he keeps saying, “Ask me a question, ask me a question. Make it
a hard one and let’s see if I can answer it.” So, I play
his silly game, and ask him a very technical question about life
insurance. He answers it perfectly. He continues to bug me, and I
continue asking him questions, with him preventing me from going over
the material so I can be ready for the damn test. Here’s a guy
who took no notes, didn’t crack a book, an insurance policy,
nothing, and he scored perfectly on the test. I got 90%, but this guy
who went out partying every night, and only came to breakfast the
first day, drank his breakfast from a toilet once, scores 100%. He
had to be at a genius level.
There
were many other training
sessions over the years, and many stories to go with them, but in
addition to my story about Alan, several stand out in my memory. They
don’t stand out because of the incident, but rather, the person
with whom I experienced them. I’ll call the guys involved,
Roger, Mickey, Frank, and my favorite pal, Tom. He was Best Man at my
wedding.
MICKEY
In
Mickey’s case, he was a good
friend I worked with, but never roomed with. He told me this story,
and had me on the floor, in stitches. Mick was an old country boy
from Eastern Kentucky. He was a high school football star, playing
with reckless abandon throughout his short career. He didn’t
play in college, primarily because his doctor advised against it. He
was so reckless on the field, most games he would get knocked out.
We’re talking, out like a light. Winning was important to Mick,
and he knew two speeds back in the day. Fast and faster. Work hard
and you win was his policy, and to do so, like most country boys, he
went to bed not much past dark, and awoke before the rooster had even
thought about crowing. You know the type, always rested and ready, up
so early and happy to see the cows and milk them; it made me
nauseous. His story goes something like this. The company put him in
a room with a guy who was considerably different than him. The
fellow, we’ll call him “David,” had only one eye,
and the other was glass, but it looked pretty good, except it seemed
to follow you no matter where you went. If you looked back as you
walked away, I swear, it followed your movement. Creepy! He also
liked to party, so, much like the first story, Mick was fast asleep
when David was just coming in, at almost the time to get up. Mick
always got up before daylight, and did so that morning, as usual, but
David, like my pal, Alan, also wanted to talk when he came in after a
night on the town. Mickey had a switch. Turn it off, and he slept,
turn it on, and he was bright as a new light bulb. So, David wore
Mickey out with conversation at two or three o’clock in the
morning. It would have been fine if David had stayed out one more
hour, or so, but he messed up Mickey’s sleep pattern, so Mick
couldn’t get his eight or nine hours of sleep in. Mick needed
that sleep. Anyway, as Mickey told it, he just wasn’t himself
that morning, primarily because of David’s attempt to tell him
what all he had done the night before. Mickey was so polite; he would
never have thought of telling his new friend to “shut it!”
David, of course was fast asleep by the time Mick arose and went into
the bathroom. I can’t make this as funny as Mickey did when he
first told me this story, but here goes. He said he did what he
always did when he got up every morning. He always had a good long
pee, then he would wash his hands with warm water, then turn the cold
water on, and splash it on his face with both hands. Afterward, he’d
drink a glass of cold water, and he was good to go. The only
difference was he was half asleep because of David. This morning, as
he looked down for a glass to get his water, in one of the motel
glasses already full of water, an eyeball was staring back at him. He
said, the first thing he did was reach up and check each eye with his
hands. “I didn’t know David had a fake eye,” he
said. I had never really met him until he came in so late that night.
I thought, could this be my eye?’ I had to check to be sure.”
We laughed about this for years, most especially when we had meetings
at the home office in Nashville. It was one of many Holiday Inn
stories.
ROGER
This
next story involves me again. Seems I
was often the brunt of someone’s ill-conceived plan. At any
rate, I knew Roger from previous training classes, and like Mickey,
he was a Kentucky boy, only he was from Western Kentucky Coal
country. You know, “Mr. Peabody’s coal train done hauled
it away,” country. John Prine, may he rest in peace.
Roger
and I found ourselves at another Nashville training session, and they
chose to put us in a room together. This had to be more advanced
training, because Roger and I had been trading places all year as the
leading salesman in our agency, so we were both experienced guys.
That's exactly why they put us together; they loved the competition.
Every sales organization does this, if they are smart.
Roger,
living in Madisonville, Kentucky, didn't have much opportunity for
nightlife, so he had to make up for it during those Nashville
sessions. On the other hand, it was my intent to work my way into
management at some future date, and I had learned that upper
management looked all of us over when they had the opportunity, and
being fuzzy brained during a training session was not a good thing
for the more serious minded. At any rate, I remember that Roger “went
out on the town” and, not only that, but stayed late. For me, I
figured one drink was enough, then I'd relax, head back to the room
at a reasonable hour, and turn in.
Roger
rolled in about 3:00
a.m., or so, and of course woke me up, saying, "hey Jim, get up
and let’s go get some “Crystal burgers.” Crystal
burgers are about the same as White Castle, a favorite in the
Louisville area. I was just awoken from a sound sleep, and right away
I told him that wasn't a good idea. Crystal stayed open all night,
and he could have picked up a package on the way back to his room, as
he drove down Murfreesboro Road to the Holiday Inn, but no, he didn't
think of that. Well, maybe he did, but was not sure he could maneuver
through the drive-thru without wrecking. I was sure he hatched his
plan as he was driving back – he could just get me to drive
him, and maybe even order for him. He kept pleading with me, and it
was then I realized how drunk he was. I imagined him thinking about
getting back to his room, and the only thing he could do was get in
his car, start it, and hope it could find its way back to the Holiday
Inn. He was lucky, and so were others who may have been out at that
hour of the morning.
Roger
kept insisting I get up and dress,
so we could go to Crystal, and I kept insisting he get his rear end
in bed, but he wasn't listening. Instead, out of the blue, he said he
was going to call his wife and tell her much he loved her and missed
her. I tried to talk him out of that, too, because she would know he
had been drinking, but he was already dialing, and the next thing I
hear is, “How is my old sweet cheeks doin,’ darlin?”
I was entertained for the next few minutes by several catty remarks,
none of which I want to include here. I’ve never laughed so
hard in my life. She was sweet about being awakened, and told how
much he loved and missed her, but I know she was embarrassed to know
I was listening to one half their conversation.
Well,
Roger
finished up with his phone call, hung up, and said, “Why aren't
you dressed; now get dressed!” Again, I told him to shut up and
go to bed and that’s when he got me. He said, “I don't
need you to go with me, hell, I'll go by myself!” Now, he had
not sobered up even a little, so I was not going to let him drive. He
was so drunk that an accident would not have hurt him; I was more
concerned about other poor innocent souls who might have the
misfortune of being run over by him. Yes, you guessed it. I finally
had no choice. I volunteered to go for him.
When
I got back,
wouldn’t you know, he was dead to the world. I shook him, but
couldn’t wake him, but I was tempted to stuff the burgers down
his throat, with the likely affect of choking him, and deservedly so.
I was happy to note, they did not go wasted; Roger ate them, cold and
greasy, the next morning. He looked a bit peaked all day, and skipped
lunch altogether. I smiled throughout the day, every time I caught
his eye. I also made a big decision that day; I was committed to
beating him sales wise, and indeed, ended up being leading Account
Representative that year. I am not bragging about that, because
without his antics that night, he probably would have beaten me. I
had to get even, so I remembered that night every time I sold a
policy. Thanks for the memories, Rog.
JIM
It
was company
policy to send a new person out with someone who had been through
training, but I found that some people, even though they were letting
you come with them, had no intention of sticking with company policy.
This took place the first week I was with the company, and almost
caused me to have second thoughts about staying. Jim was someone I
would never have hired if I had been doing the hiring, but they said
he sold a lot of bibles door to door when he was in college, and that
touched our then, regional manager’s heart; he too had sold
bibles when in college. I had only been with the company a few days
when my manager said, “Go with Jim today. He has some
enrollments to do, and you will pick up some pointers just watching
him.”
Now,
let me tell you a little more about Jim. He was from eastern
Kentucky, and I don’t mean for that to be a stigma, but he was
one of those guys whom you could put a Brooks Brothers suit on, and
he would still look sloppy. The back section of his tie was longer
than the front, and was a little below belt level. Sloppy. He had a
little pooch on his belly which caused his shirt to pull out, and
almost expose the entire front tail, plus his stomach. His blond hair
was in disarray, but the worst thing came after we were in his car on
the way to the sales call. This is when he cued me in on his approach
to sales. He said, “talk to a customer in a whisper, which
forces him or her to move closer to you.” He said then you
smile as you give your sales pitch and begin filling out the
application before the customer has agreed on anything. He said it
worked for him most every time. I think he was still selling bibles,
at least in his mind. When we arrived at our call, Jim walked in like
he owned the place, and got several employees to stand against the
wall. If I remember, there were five, maybe six, new employees, all
females. Jim proceeded to talk softly, and he was right; the ladies
couldn’t quite make out what he was saying, so were leaning in.
Somehow, he suddenly got the brilliant idea that he would get the
employees to fill out their own application, which of course would
save him time. He enrolled all those ladies in several programs, with
little or no explanation of what they were buying, or how they
worked. He was having fun, at least until the owner of the company
came in and overheard part of his spiel, and threw us both out of the
business.
I
knew we were supposed to meet with each employee,
one at a time, and explain each benefit in an understandable fashion,
but Jim had told me to keep quiet, so I did. I was new and green, and
he broke the rules. I had serious reservations about what I had
gotten myself into. I was thinking that an agent needed to stick to
company policy, but if they let everyone do as they please, I didn’t
want to be a part of it. The showdown came when we returned to the
office, and our manager asked me to come into his office and shut the
door; he wanted to know how the call had gone. He could tell I was
hesitant, but he insisted I tell him how it went. You can imagine how
I responded, but when I told him the owner kicked us out, he didn't
budge. I suggested he talk with Jim about the call, but he said, “No,
no, I wanted you to tell me about it, because I value your input, and
a third-party observation is best in these situations. He asked,
“What would you have done differently?” Later on he told
me the owner of the business had called him and told him what had
happened. My new boss knew he could lose me over the incident, and
wanted to assure me that was not the way we did business.
Jim
didn’t last long in our organization. My call with him was
indeed startling. It shook me up, but I soon learned we had a much
more meaningful approach, and I’m glad I didn’t make a
hasty decision.
FRANK
I
want to tell this story
because it is about a senior officer in our company. Funny things
happen to everyone, but sometimes you never hear a good story because
a person is too embarrassed to tell on themselves. Frank was not that
kind of person; in fact, he'd rather laugh at himself than anyone
else.
My
company was one of the largest insurance brokers in
the world, and Frank eventually became its chief executive officer.
Our U.S. headquarters was in New York City at the time, and Frank was
living in Nashville, and traveling to New York for senior meetings. I
don't recall the hotel he was staying at, but suffice to say, it was
one of the best and biggest. As Frank tells it, he slept in his
jockey shorts. He simply did not like to be encumbered by pajamas,
but didn't want to sleep in the bare either.
As
many hotels do,
one of the benefits offered him was a newspaper at his door every
morning, in this case of couse, it was the Times. He was there all
week, and every morning he would get up early to read the paper
before showering and going down for breakfast. However, one morning
he opened the door to get his paper, and it wasn't there. He said he
said a curse word under his breath, but looking across the hall, he
saw a paper lying in front of his neighbor's door. He was still in
his jockeys of course, but he was sure he could grab that paper and
make it back to his room before the door slammed shut. He was
wrong.
So
here Frank stood in front of his door, a senior
officer of our company, wearing only his jockey shorts. But he did
not hesitate; he tucked the paper under his arm and headed for the
elevator. He said he didn't see a soul until he arrived on the first
floor, and he proceeded to say good morning to several people,
including several attractive, smiling women. He nodded each time,
smiled and said, “Good morning, have a nice day, now.”
The front desk offered to find him something to wear, but he refused,
and only wanted another key to his room.
Frank
was a southern
gentleman, born and reared in Nashville, and had you been one of
those he met that morning, you would have heard a pleasant southern
voice wishing you good morning, and have seen a sincere smile from
someone who was not the least bit embarrassed.
TOM
This
next story is my last in this series, and the shortest of the ones I
have told, but it’s one I love more than any other. Tom was the
Account Executive to whom I was assigned when I first got into the
business. I enrolled all the employees in his new business and
existing customers for him; we called a new group, a “case.”
and he trained me how to make calls on employer association members
with the objective of selling a case, which could have contained any
number of benefit plans. . I recall my very first lead call to a
member of one of our trade associations. It was a Pepsi Cola
bottler in Louisville.
For weeks I was with Tom when he made
this kind of call, and he was with me that day, allowing me to lead
the way. During the weeks and days leading up to that fateful day, we
role played, and he shared with me the serious objectives of that
first call. In the Pepsi parking lot, we again discussed our
objectives, and he asked me if I was ready. I think I probably said,
“No, but let's do this anyway.” So off we went, headed
for the front door of Pepsi Cola, a plant containing around a hundred
employees. What a reputation I could begin building if I sold
this.
As
we neared the front door, I noticed the entrance had
a corridor with doors at both ends. Something many buildings have, to
keep the heat or A/C in. One set opens automatically, and when they
close, the lobby doors open to let you in. Just as the first set of
entrance doors closed behind us, Tom passed gas. Not just a little
either. The distance between doors was sufficient to get more than a
good whiff, and I turned to Tom and said, “Did you just fart?”
He grinned, and I broke up laughing. When the lobby door opened, I
was still laughing; maybe it had turned into a big smile by then. I
was completely at ease when we reached the receptionist, and the call
could not have gone more smoothly. We met our objectives of getting
employee data and there was good interest in what I had offered. As I
recall, Tom ultimately had himself a new client. Of course, he did
most of the preparation for the final presentation, but I know he was
proud of me. So was I.
Tom
was a special guy. He sensed the
tension I was feeling as I got ready to make that call, broke that
tension for me, maybe by happenstance, but I think he planned it. He
made me laugh. I always remembered that the best thing you can do on
a sales call is relax, and above all, smile.
I
have many more
stories, but I will save them for now. Thanks for hanging out with me
and allowing me to share a laugh or two.
Contact
James (Unless
you
type
the
author's name in
the subject
line
of the message we
won't know where to send it.)
