I sat idled in my Accord outside the office for what seemed an eternity. I felt a bit immature being so nervous for my first day. I'd never envisioned myself becoming a manager as I worked through my twenties. I was happy just to let the days pass by in a cubicle working 9 to 5 with little to no pressure while I made enough to survive, and live a content life. However, as time went by, I realized I could no longer get by on what I was earning, and needed some extra cash on a consistent basis. All of my appliances were falling apart at home, new repair jobs seemed to pop up every 2 to 3 months, and worst of all, my baby, Jasmine, my silver Accord was on its last legs. Nevermind if I ever wanted to settle down with my girlfriend, Jessica, and start a family. Things had been serious between us for a while now, and I was finally starting to get serious about popping the question.
My current position in Customer Service didn't lend itself well to upward mobility, so it was necessary to look elsewhere for new opportunities. I spent weeks scouring different job sites, and sending out resumes, but I couldn't even get so much as a call back. I was beginning to get depressed, and desperate wondering what the past ten years of my career were even worth. But, when I thought all hope was lost, I got a call from Fabrotec.
They were a local company, about a 20 minute commute, and they were looking for an Office Manager to take care of the administrative duties for their U.S. distribution center. I would be ensuring smooth transactions at the facility, handling all the paperwork and maintanence contracts, as well as managing the warehouse staff.
I spoke with an H.R. manager for about an hour, and everything went fantastically. The job seemed like it was something I could handle as I had done most of the day-to-day tasks in my current position. The line of questioning was very laid back and conversational. This loosened me up, and I nailed the interview. At the end, they remarked how they felt I would be perfect for the position, and wanted to offer the job to me then and there. I was happy with the pay structure, so that was a formality. I told them I could start in two weeks.
The two weeks passed, and I sat intimidated by the monster of a building that loomed over me. A 25,000 sq. ft. facility filled with large steel packaging containers intended for large scale industrial jobs.
Finally, I decided it would be a terrible look if I walked in late for my first day as manager, so Itook a deep breath, and headed into the front office area.
What I walked into dumbfounded me. There was absolutely no one else in the office.
There were four small offices, one of which had my name tag and computer set-up, but the other rooms were half finished, filled with boxes of random spare parts, and debris.
"Hellooooooooo...", I bellowed, but there was no response.
"What the hell have I gotten myself into?" I wondered.
"Is this even a real company for crying out loud?"
Suddenly, I heard a door open at the back of the office area, which connected the office space to the warehouse. A young man entered, and introduced himself as Dylan, the Warehouse Associate. I introduced myself as Daniel, and we exchanged friendly smiles. Then, Dylan broke the ice.
"You look a bit surprised. Corporate really sold you the moon when you had that interview, huh?" said Dylan, followed by a self-satisifed chuckle.
He continued, "Well, what you see is what you get, bro. It's going to be just me and you holding it down here for the foreseeable future."
The surprised look on my face remained as I replied, "There has to be another warehouse associate with you. You're working with forks, pickers, and containers that are hundreds of pounds. That's just crazy."
Dylan just shook his head, and replied with a simple, yet effective, "Nope."
"Wow," I replied, "What about OSHA? They must've stopped in here in the past. They wouldn't let this slide."
Dylan said, "Well, I heard they came just before I first started, but then, we did have two other guys working here. Since then, the've left, new ones have come, left, and corporate has basically given up."
"For the past couple of months, it has just been me back there, and honestly, I'm loving it. I get to go about my day with no distractions, and just get stuff done. As long as you can manage to keep our receiving days, and shipping days separated we should be fine," stated Dylan.
What a manager's dream. In the past four years, Dylan had learned everything he needed to do the job comfortably. Just stay out of the way, and he'll keep the process moving with no fuss.
Dylan seemed like he was a cool guy, and would be easy to work with. He was in his mid-twenties, skinny build, seemed goth/emo type, but it was hard to tell for sure. He had a tattoo sleeve of thorns and roses on his left arm that went from his wrist up to his elbow, and gauges in both earlobes.
"I'll do my best to make that happen," I cautiously promised. "I trust that you'll keep doing what you've been doing, and we'll go from there. But, listen, I'm booked with a crazy day of introduction meetings, and software training. Can I get a tour around the warehouse tomorrow, or something?"
"Of course," Dylan replied. "But do me a favor, OK? You have to give me a call on the phone before you head back there for safety reasons. I can't state that enough. I'll need to get you a hard hat, and stuff..."
It seemed a bit odd to me, but I agreed, and we went on with the rest of our day.
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It was a sunny mid-afternoon the next day, and I was catching onto the company's software very well. It was similar to what I had used in the past, and I was feeling comfortable. E-mails were straight-forward, invoicing was a breeze, so I thought it was the perfect time to get my eyes off the computer screen, and take a walk into the warehouse. I could check in with Dylan, and get a quick tour around the facility.
I opened the door to the warehouse, and had gotten 30 meters down a corridor lined with massive steel racks filled to the brim with heavy containers before I remembered his instruction to call first. I quickly brushed off the thought, and decided to just make an executive decision to continue.
I puffed out my chest a bit, grinned, and thought, "I could get used to calling the shots."
