SUMMER HEAT... so much going on (Part 161u)

SUMMER HEAT… so much going on (Part 161u)

Mad isn’t the word to use to describe how I felt on the return trip to the main office. I’d never had high blood pressure but if it had been taken at that time it probably would have been a record (for me). I’d called Bret before I left and he told me that Bert (the president) wanted an updated report on how many new accounts had been opened including dollar amounts of new money. I told him where my folder was located and told him to have a draft of it ready by the time I got back. I’d gotten the Wednesday figures from Betsy but hadn’t added them to the others. In hearing them I was concerned but had had no time to analyze the six days the program had been in existence. Being a Friday, the bank was open until 6pm and all banking floor employees had been told they would be needed. Road traffic, as expected on a Friday afternoon, was heavy so the usual 35 minutes took just under an hour. Pulling into the parking lot I was greeted by a police patrol car with flashing lights at the back door.

Long story short… as I had previously written, blankets were, by far, the most popular gift item. That afternoon they had run out of them. I’m going to have to lay the blame on Bret as he was to keep up on the gift inventory. One woman, incensed that she wasn’t going to get one, attacked (verbally) a customer who was walking out with three of them. That customer took offense to the attack and, dropped her blankets and started swinging at the other woman. With a busy lobby, it didn’t take long for others to get involved. I arrived as things were calming down. A policeman and Hobie had the woman who started it seated on a lobby bench when I walked in. Hobie called me over to ask why we were out of blankets. The obvious answer was that they were the most popular item but that wasn’t the answer he wanted. If I’d known before leaving for the branch I could’ve brought some back with me. With the main office opening approximately two accounts to one for the branch and the supply of blankets distributed equally the branch certainly had extras. The situation was resolved by getting the woman’s information and a promise to get her a blanket. This wasn’t what I wanted to face to close out the week.

Bret apologized but the damage had been done (to both of us) so I didn’t harp on it but focused on the report I’d asked him to work on. After but a few minutes of study it told a startling story. I already knew the response to the branch opening was tepid, at best, but looking at the numbers as compared to the main office it was a bit of a shock. I was about to give the final draft to Trish to type when the phone rang. It was Bert’s (the president) secretary and she said he wanted to see me right away. I thought it was about the report he requested so I took it with me. It was… sort of…

He’d heard about the scuffle in the lobby and wanted to know why we’d run out of blankets. There were a number of reasons… some good, some bad. I could tell he was serious as soon as I walked into his office. Like my grandfather had told me on many occasions, “tell the truth and and you have nothing to forget”, so I told him that I’d not kept a close enough count on the inventory. In reality there were a number of reasons for that happening but I knew eh wasn’t interested in excuses. His next question was to ask what I was going to do about it. I know I hemmed and hawed a bit before saying I’d go to the branch and get some of their inventory. He wanted to know if that wasn’t going to “short” them. Under pressure I told him I didn’t think so… which led him to ask about the report I had in my hand.

He quickly perused it and then asked if the figure for the branch office were correct. I knew they were because I’d been the one keeping them so I nodded affirmatively. That led to the main office figures being questioned as to being accurate. I told him I was fairly sure they were and when I did he wanted to know why the great disparity in the total number of accounts being opened between the offices… approximately 400 for the branch and 1500 for the main office. I wasn’t ready for a question that specific so looked somewhat the fool when I couldn’t give him an answer. I tried to offset the poor performance at the branch by noting that the main office had opened somewhere around 300 more accounts  this campaign that the one run exactly a year ago. I was never sure he heard that as he immediately proceeded to have his secretary start calling the branch committee members for a meeting on Monday afternoon. When he put the phone back in the cradle he ordered me to get some answers by noon on Monday. I’d never seen him like this in the three years I’d been at the bank and it told me I was being somewhat ‘at risk’ for the lack of performance. I was certainly upset as I left his office. In spite of that I did remember I had to arrange to get some blankets transferred from the branch to the main office by Monday.

I started with Mike, the messenger custodian, asking if he would be willing to make a trip to the branch over the weekend. For money, he’d do just about anything. The next step was in having someone at the branch to give him access to the storage trailer. Naturally, one would think the branch manager would make himself available. He came up with a mealy mouth excuse as to why he couldn’t so I tasked him with finding someone who would. Ever the opportunist, it was Mae. I had the two of them coordinate the time before I left for home so at least one of my immediate problems was solved. Driving home, I had no idea where to even start to find the answers Bert had demanded I have by noon on Monday.

Breaking my rule about not talking about work while at home, Elle again suggested that working on the race car might be a good thing for me. When I arrived at the garage the engine was running and had already been tuned. Cliffy had checked the compression on all the cylinders and found them to be somewhat even. That had been the overriding concern about the copper ring process that been applied to the cylinder heads. After loading the car on the hauler we had a meeting about finances… or lack of. Fairlane John had bailed us out with the cost of the new rear end but hadn’t been seen since. We all agreed we needed him to pop in again. The race the next night was for twice the normal laps and none of the racers had put that many laps on the new tires we were all running by then. Ours had been on the track three different times for what, in the business, are called heat cycles. That was another unknown factor. While we were discussing that topic Cliffy’s father walked in to see what we were doing. He was a quiet man, very, very smart, who seldom interjected himself into other people’s business, even that of his son. On occasion we’d seen him around the shop but never around the race car. But, on this night he kind of sidled his way into the group to listen. He did ask about the heads and the work that had been done on them. After Cliffy explained he got up, took a few steps, turned and said but two words… “fifteen laps” and then walked away.

To be continued...