It doesn't take much to damage someone's reputation. A few words spoken with a certain tone. A well-rehearsed look. All it really takes is an audience.
I once worked for a woman who decided to make an example of me for reasons I could not guess. At one of our regular meetings, just as she was in the middle of her presentation, she stopped, looked directly at me and said, "Are you ok?" in an alarmed sort of voice.
You can imagine what happened next.
Every single woman in that room turned to see my face turn red as I managed to stammer, "I'm fine." I had been fine, up until then.
Suddenly there was in the minds of everyone in the room a perception that something was wrong with me. Was I about to faint? Throw up? Did I need to go to the bathroom? Was I daydreaming? Writing a novel? Doodling to stay awake? Praying to be released from the hell of this meeting?
No. I was sitting in a normal way, listening to a presentation just like everyone else. Minding my own business. Not causing any trouble. But trouble has a way of finding me.
My husband has always said, "If they like you, you can burn down the restaurant and still have a job. If they don't, watch out." He may even have a story about someone who burned down a restaurant and still kept a job. I forget. He has a lot of stories.
The man who hired me for my very first job away from home, where I worked for my dad on the farm, did not like me and probably only hired me because my mother may have asked him as a favor while we were walking out of church together one Sunday. He may have decided he could put up with me since he was also getting my sister as an employee and he was far happier with her.
I knew from the start I could do nothing to please him. Everything I did was criticized. Because I kept trying, not giving into his rants, he would have to up his game.
One day he asked if I had a boyfriend. I was 16. Of course I had a boyfriend! I was so pleased he had taken an interest in my life. I was too naive to realize he had only asked so he could turn around and say that I should tell the boy to "go fly a kite!" Then because I truly was innocent, I excitedly shared with this employer my plan to go with my boyfriend to the beach to fly kites that very evening! This was not a tender moment. This was where my boss walked away, red in the face, angry that he had not yet defeated me.
On another day it was my turn to do the dishes. It was an ice cream shop and I'm not sure what all had to be washed by hand, but I knew the knives we used to cut the bananas for banana splits did.
With the boss out of the shop and probably only one or two others working the counter, I safely filled the large sink with hot water and soap and slipped the knives in to soak. Everything was going swimmingly until someone cried out, "LURCH" our nickname for our beloved boss, and we stopped eating our "mistakes" and got ready for inspection.
For reasons I will never know, Lurch immediately went over to the sink and as he was about to put his hands into the water, I ran over asking him to please stop while I tried to explain that I was in the process of . . . . It was too late. There he was lifting a handful of knives up from out of the water. By the grace of God alone did he not cut himself on them.
You can imagine what happened next.
I was taken into the backroom and this very tall, ex-military man, would bend over as far as he could so he could look me directly in my never-been-fired-before 16-year-old-face. I would like to say I remember what he said but I am not even sure I even heard most of it. I have been blessed with somewhat of a dissociative "gift" that allows me to sometimes step outside of what is happening to me. It is built-in protection.
My reputation as a ice cream server was beyond repair. This one mistake that would have never even been a mistake if my boss had not shown up unexpectedly would now define me. If only he would have listened to me. If only he would not have put his hands in the sink. If only.
I do remember hearing that I had no potential and would probably never amount to more than a dishwasher. I'm not sure why he even would say that since my dishwashing skills nearly sent him to the hospital. It was also rather difficult for me to take him seriously since I was already one of the top students at my high school, I was second-chair flute in band, and I even had a boyfriend. In my 16-year-old mind I was doing just fine. My reputation at school would remain intact.
He threatened to fire me. In the end, he did. I was sad I wouldn't get to eat any more ice cream.
On the 4th of July weekend, the biggest weekend of the entire year for this small town ice cream shop, my sister decided to hang up her apron, leaving the shop short-staffed. It still ranks as one of the nicest things she has ever done for me!
I once worked for a woman who decided to make an example of me for reasons I could not guess. At one of our regular meetings, just as she was in the middle of her presentation, she stopped, looked directly at me and said, "Are you ok?" in an alarmed sort of voice.
You can imagine what happened next.
Every single woman in that room turned to see my face turn red as I managed to stammer, "I'm fine." I had been fine, up until then.
Suddenly there was in the minds of everyone in the room a perception that something was wrong with me. Was I about to faint? Throw up? Did I need to go to the bathroom? Was I daydreaming? Writing a novel? Doodling to stay awake? Praying to be released from the hell of this meeting?
No. I was sitting in a normal way, listening to a presentation just like everyone else. Minding my own business. Not causing any trouble. But trouble has a way of finding me.
My husband has always said, "If they like you, you can burn down the restaurant and still have a job. If they don't, watch out." He may even have a story about someone who burned down a restaurant and still kept a job. I forget. He has a lot of stories.
The man who hired me for my very first job away from home, where I worked for my dad on the farm, did not like me and probably only hired me because my mother may have asked him as a favor while we were walking out of church together one Sunday. He may have decided he could put up with me since he was also getting my sister as an employee and he was far happier with her.
I knew from the start I could do nothing to please him. Everything I did was criticized. Because I kept trying, not giving into his rants, he would have to up his game.
One day he asked if I had a boyfriend. I was 16. Of course I had a boyfriend! I was so pleased he had taken an interest in my life. I was too naive to realize he had only asked so he could turn around and say that I should tell the boy to "go fly a kite!" Then because I truly was innocent, I excitedly shared with this employer my plan to go with my boyfriend to the beach to fly kites that very evening! This was not a tender moment. This was where my boss walked away, red in the face, angry that he had not yet defeated me.
On another day it was my turn to do the dishes. It was an ice cream shop and I'm not sure what all had to be washed by hand, but I knew the knives we used to cut the bananas for banana splits did.
With the boss out of the shop and probably only one or two others working the counter, I safely filled the large sink with hot water and soap and slipped the knives in to soak. Everything was going swimmingly until someone cried out, "LURCH" our nickname for our beloved boss, and we stopped eating our "mistakes" and got ready for inspection.
For reasons I will never know, Lurch immediately went over to the sink and as he was about to put his hands into the water, I ran over asking him to please stop while I tried to explain that I was in the process of . . . . It was too late. There he was lifting a handful of knives up from out of the water. By the grace of God alone did he not cut himself on them.
You can imagine what happened next.
I was taken into the backroom and this very tall, ex-military man, would bend over as far as he could so he could look me directly in my never-been-fired-before 16-year-old-face. I would like to say I remember what he said but I am not even sure I even heard most of it. I have been blessed with somewhat of a dissociative "gift" that allows me to sometimes step outside of what is happening to me. It is built-in protection.
My reputation as a ice cream server was beyond repair. This one mistake that would have never even been a mistake if my boss had not shown up unexpectedly would now define me. If only he would have listened to me. If only he would not have put his hands in the sink. If only.
I do remember hearing that I had no potential and would probably never amount to more than a dishwasher. I'm not sure why he even would say that since my dishwashing skills nearly sent him to the hospital. It was also rather difficult for me to take him seriously since I was already one of the top students at my high school, I was second-chair flute in band, and I even had a boyfriend. In my 16-year-old mind I was doing just fine. My reputation at school would remain intact.
He threatened to fire me. In the end, he did. I was sad I wouldn't get to eat any more ice cream.
On the 4th of July weekend, the biggest weekend of the entire year for this small town ice cream shop, my sister decided to hang up her apron, leaving the shop short-staffed. It still ranks as one of the nicest things she has ever done for me!
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