Wish You Were Here

No, really, I don’t wish you were here.  This happened today.

In my head.

But it might as well have been at my desk where everyone could see it.  As long as I’ve been at Walton Arts Center, I’ve been the “go to” for a large portion of the staff.  Heck, it’s kind of my job as Director of Events and Patron Services.  I better know what’s going on, right?

But that doesn’t mean you have to ask me about it all of the time (I kid, I kid, ask away, I’ll answer, I promise, and I won’t complain about it in a blog… at least, not after today).

I just needed a chance for my brain to process information.  I had a fabulous meeting with my supervisor talking about why some people easily get customer service and why it’s like pulling teeth to get some people to just smile.  I left that meeting with a ton of good ideas regarding training exercises that would be both fun and educational.  My brain was on a roll, I tell you,  a ROLL.

That is, until I step foot back into my building.  Then the questions started.  They aren’t earth shattering questions.  Sometimes things as simple as “where should we put the trash can, here or 2 feet to the left of here”.  Okay, I made that one up, but those are the types questions people rely on me to answer.

When I’m out of the office, that trash can miraculously finds a home without my input, what’s different when I’m actually here?  And please don’t tell me not to answer when I’m here.  Then that picture you see above will actually be a live scene here in Fayetteville, AR.

I think everyone is allowed a day where they can throw up the yellow police tape and just do their job.  One day a week might be too much to ask for, but at least a couple of month might be nice.  Think of what might get accomplished on those days!

It blows my mind.

In that place, I just solved world peace.

Give me that day and you’ll thank me later.

PS – the irony is not lost on me that in order to think about customer service I would have to shut people out.  It is not… lost… on… me.