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Copyright 2008 T. Sheil & A. Sheil All Rights Reserved
Back in the late 1970s, there was a problem on the job. There were money problems, and the boss had to cut our hours. I went from five to three days. I started looking for a side job. The boss, Jim, was also a friend, asked if I might work a day or two each week for a friend of his. The friend was Henry, an obnoxious fellow who owned a small company that delivered office supplies and equipment. I had met Henry before and did not like him. Jim asked if I might not do it as a favor to him. Henry really needed help from someone he could trust. I took the part time job. I worked for Henry one or two days a week, for about five weeks.
Henry was the worst boss because he thought being boss meant he could do anything he wanted. He arrived late by anywhere from one to three hours most of the time. This was in a business where you could not make up time later. The customers were offices working regular weekday schedules. Most opened between 8:30 and 9:00 a.m. Many were closed by 4:30 pm, and all were shut by 5:00 pm. Our first delivery should have been started by 8:30, but we had days when our trucks did not get to their first stop until 12:30. Instead of a good 7 hours of deliveries, we had days where we did fewer than 4.
Henry liked doing things his way, and in the process he managed to alienate workers and customers. He paid workers poorly, demanded much, and added the insult of loud, foul tirades at very little provocation. Henry listened to customer complaints and promised them he would fix things, but did nothing. Henry said the customers were just making noise. Workers quit because they realized they could make the same money elsewhere, without the hassles and insults. Customers stopped making orders. In one instance, he so infuriated a customer that he was banned from entering the building. At least twice, workers quit in the middle of the job.
The irony was that Henry thought he was a great person for whom to work. He felt he deserved loyalty from workers and customers. Instead, he lost both. The last day I worked for Henry, he had lost his best customer due to his own negligence, and then took it out on the workers. Men quit right there, myself included. Ironically, it was a day we were at our first delivery by 8:30. By 9:00, we were walking toward the subway station while Henry insanely shouted on a street corner.
Henry thought that being boss meant doing whatever he pleased. Actually, being a good boss means doing what the job demands. The rules are already set by the requirements of the job. In this specific case, it meant planning so as to do the maximum amount of work within the time frame allowed. It also entailed satisfying customers and having a dependable work force. Henry illustrated the consequences of playing boss man as opposed to being a good boss.
***
I had worked in a hobby shop for Lena. She was a pleasant person who had taken over the shops when her parents retired. The shop where I worked hired me after having some hard times. It was easy to see part of the problem.
There was a lot of very old stock, and not all of it was hobby goods. Some were toys for small children, an uncommon thing in a hobby shop. Meanwhile, new stock was not being replaced as it was depleted. Lena would not sell the old stock at a discount. She wanted to make sure it earned every penny. At the same time, she only replaced new stock when she could get it at a discount.
The real problem is one found with accountants and bookkeepers. They view everything in terms of costs. Lena picked items based on cost rather that customer appeal. A shrewd retailer would have sold the old stock at cost or even less to get capital for new stock. Likewise, the retailer would be attentive to customer interest rather than selling whatever came cheap. Though price is a factor in sales, it is not the only factor. People do not go to a store and ask “What do you have for sixty nine cents?” They go looking for a specific product. “Do you have any model kits of the Turbo Trans-Am?”
Sadly, the shop was on the declining end and the lease was up. The landlords wanted to raise the rent, but the profits could not keep pace. So it was the everything was eventually offered at 25% off. Anything not sold went to her other store. She was forced to discount. Had she cleared out the massive amounts of very old stock and re-invested in things people wanted, the shop might still be there. Like they say, Penny Wise and Pound Foolish.
***
Paul managed a fish market. I worked there while I was between jobs, so to speak. It was a very different kind of business. One thing I can say for the fish marketing: presentation is everything.
Every evening, we emptied the stainless steel counters and scrubbed them down. Every morning we came in and gave them a quick “once over.” Then they were filled with fresh ice. The edges of the displays were lined with parsley for appearances. Fish and other seafood were displayed carefully. Anything that did not look fresh was sent to the other department, where it would be turned into fishcakes.
The trick was keeping the display fresh during the day. As ice melted ,we added more. If the ice were a bit bloody from the fish, we scooped it out and replaced it. We moved things in the display as the day progressed. As fish were sold and space made, either more was added or we re-arranged items.
When the day was over, the remaining fish was put in the ice locker. The place was scrubbed.
I had been hired in October. Previously, in the Spring ,the store had many more employees. That Summer came the scare of medical waste washing up on the Shore. It fueled a panic which led to folks avoiding eating fish. The market had laid off at least half of its staff. I was the first new man hired after the incident.
That year, in March there was a “special series” done by a local TV station about conditions in the South Street Seaport. It focused on a few bad suppliers, This ought not have affected us, as we got most of our fish from Hunts Point. However, that Monday we saw the results. Throughout the next week, sales will almost nil. The only thing that saved us was that it was Lent, when the Catholics eat fish on Fridays. We were in an area near Italian neighborhoods and so we had a steady Lenten crowd on Thursdays and Friday. It still was not enough. People were getting laid off.
About that time, I got a call that a job had opened in my field. One phone call confirmed that the job was mine if I wanted it. The owners knew me. So it was that I told Paul he could spare someone else a layoff, because I had the new job. The irony is that the next lay off would have been a friend of mine who had been hired on my recommendation.
The story does not end there. My friend stayed with the market for a while. They survived the panic and business picked up. By keeping to their standards, they were able to ride out the panic and to attract customers once it passed.
By the way, what is the best sign you are in a good fish market? It does not smell like fish! If a fish market smells too fishy, get out of there. The better markets smell clean and fresh.
I worked in one of the better markets.
If you keep your standards high, you can ride out problems that would devastate others. Being better means doing well in good times and surviving through the bad.
These are a few jobs from which I took interesting lessons. They illustrated the value of doing things right. It is often a matter of getting yourself out of the way, so you can see what really needs to be done. And that is also a lesson in itself.