Never Boring

There is much to like about my Saturday job clerking at the auction house. It’s done sitting down, so there’s no wear and tear on my knees. It’s only 5 miles from home, so it’s a vacation from driving, and after 25 years of 70-80,000 miles a year, I can appreciate that even though I still like driving. Nepotism is a de facto company policy, making us all much like a single extended family. Many of us gather socially away from work. There’s always something to learn, something to buy, friendly people to greet, and sometimes the very demanding job of trying to keep up with the auctioneer when he’s on a push to finish. All those things keep it interesting. But when I say it’s never boring, I never thought that would mean a day quite like yesterday. Yesterday we lost two employees, for very different reasons.

The first one I heard about at the after-auction employees meeting. This is where we go over the good and the bad of the auction, give opinions, complaints, thanks and kudos as appropriate, all with an end to making the next auction smoother and more professional. While waiting for everyone to finish their post-auction cigarettes so we could begin, one of our members, whom I’ll call “M”, filled in Doug, our boss, of the actual circumstances behind one young fellow’s leaving. I’ll call him “T”. "T" had informed Doug just before the start of the auction that he had a new job waiting for him starting later the upcoming week. “M” had had trouble keeping a straight face during the announcement, and now told us why. What “T” actually had was an interview, after calling about an ad in the paper. Some local farmer needs somebody to drive a large farm vehicle to spread chemicals over the fields. “T” hasn’t quite figured out yet that he’s not exactly in a position to get the job since he doesn’t happen to have a driver’s license! I believe “M” used some phrase like “dumb as a sack of hammers.” Nobody who’s worked with “T” at the auction house disagreed with that assessment.

The second employee leaving wasn’t due to a resignation but to a firing, and this isn’t something Doug does lightly. He’ll put up with a lot from some of us, at least in part because he can’t afford to pay any of us well.

It started with a comment I very likely heard during the auction but took no note of at the time since it was not directed at me. I have to concentrate on my clerking job, so that all the right people pay the right amounts for the right items. I have to be perfect. It escalated to a point where I became directly involved, though quite against my inclination. The two people involved I’ll call “Madame” and “Missy”, names picked solely for their respective ages.

Madame, like many of us, started out as a customer and graduated to employee. For the last several weeks I had heard only complaints about her work from different people, including Doug. But I repeat, Doug hates to fire people. I had not much opinion on the issue, since I’m only there on Saturdays, unless I pop in during the week to see what’s upcoming in merchandise. I did however have opportunities to listen to Madame talk about a variety of things before and after auctions, and was becoming uncomfortable with the difference in our ethical standards on a particular issue. She frankly thought that everybody did _____ but simply lied about doing it, so why shouldn’t she do it also? Furthermore, since she was at least honest about doing it, she was actually more virtuous than everybody else. Personally, I haven’t done _____ since childhood, and would have trouble sleeping well if I did. My parents taught me well on that topic. I became wary of Madame.

Missy, the younger member of a family who works at the auction pretty much en masse, earns college money while still in high school. What I do observe tells me she is bright, works hard most of the time, and adheres to standards I can appreciate. While mature for her age, she is also still a kid. As you can probably tell, knowing nothing of the dispute ahead of time, I’m already prepared to take a side, though I’ll keep an open mind.

Madame presents the issue to Doug at the meeting as her having been disrespected during the auction, in front of the customers, by Missy. Madame’s concern, of course, is that this behavior makes Missy look bad. Customers have complained.

Missy asks what she said that was disrespectful and when?

Apparently, at one point Missy saw Madame holding an item up for the customers to view while bidding on it, thought it needed to be held higher, and told Madame so. No frills of politeness, no abusive language, just, “Hold it higher.” Missy defended her comment saying it needed to be said. People don’t buy what they can’t see.

At this point, I figured it was all over. Both made their points, both might have learned something. But Madame just wouldn't let it drop, as if she absolutely needed to win, to put Missy in her place. She kept pushing the issue.

Missy then asked which customers complained? Madame couldn’t remember any of their names. Since by far most of our customers are regular repeat customers, and often addressed by name by Doug during the auction, most of us learn many of their names. We greet them as they walk in by name. We know about their families, and they about ours. These would be the customers who would feel comfortable enough with staff that they might make a comment during the auction. Missy called her on it, saying if she couldn’t come up with any names, she must have been making that part up.

Madame, at this point, threw her cup of coffee at Missy.

Well, she tried, anyway. Between the two of them were the front counter, the desk, about ten feet of floor space... and me. I was sitting patiently waiting for the two of them to settle their issues like adults, and suddenly I’m all wet: hair, glasses, face, clothes. Missy brings me the paper towels I ask for, and after I try to dab everything dry, I continue with the desk, the notepad, the picture frame, the pen holder, whatever else has been nailed.

Meanwhile Missy’s mom goes straight out around the counter at gets in Madame’s face. The action is not limited to verbal exchanges at this point, but the two of them lock hands and are pushing back and forth as I take a second from mopping up to see what’s happening. Missy’s mom said later that Madame was trying to bend her thumbs in directions they weren’t meant to go in. In other words, it wasn't just defensive, stay-away-from-me mode, it was full attack, I-want-to-hurt-you. Mom squeezed back, and thinks she heard something crack in Madame’s hand.

All this takes maybe ten seconds, long enough for Doug to recover from the shock of it and put in his two cents’ worth. “Madame, you have to leave this building. Go. Get out of here now.” There was also the standard bit about her behavior was inappropriate, he couldn’t have unstable people working for him, and she was fired - all said to her back, either as or after she left. I didn't see exactly. I was still kinda busy. He did send two of the other employees after her to make sure she actually left. She had.

Now Missy’s dad comes out from the back room, loudly announcing he’s ready to punch Madame, even if he sees her on the street in the next weeks. It doesn’t matter if he has to go to jail for it! He threatens to call the police and have her charged with assault. Nobody assaults his family without him taking action! Nobody assaults his family’s friend without him taking action!

Oh gee, he means me. How sweet. Oh wait, no, not so sweet if he thinks he has to avenge me and it gets him in trouble! Don’t do it!

Do I need to say that the employee meeting was sidetracked from the auction for way more time than Madame deserves to have spent on her? “B” bemoaned he had no camcorder for the whole thing. Missy noted that all her siblings start to quickly back away from the action as Mom starts to raise her voice and head in Madame’s direction: they know that voice. Doug asked me if I want to make a comment? I note that he’s said she’s fired: that’s enough for me. I also note that a couple feet in another direction and the coffee would have gone all over the computer and cash register, with less than splendid results.

Eventually we get back to the meeting, get paid, and go our separate ways. Most of us will be back next Saturday, for the Antique and Collectors Auction.

I doubt it’ll be boring.