Revenge of the Receptionista
Luckily my call centre hell was short-lived and I am now propping up the lovely reception desk at a large company in Soho. I feel like a lioness who's been away from her kingdom for too long, only to return to find that it smells a bit more like lion shit than she remembers.
The girl whose job this is actually got sacked last week and the temp originally drafted in turned out to be useless- no idea how to field calls, flimsy filing and was also caught painting her nails. Where the fuck did this broad think she was? The 1980s? Things have changed since the days where receptionists and secretaries would spend all day brushing their hair and dreaming about getting taken out in their boss's bright red Lamborghini. These days, we're receptionistas and a recep girl has got to be on the ball, a girl for all seasons but especially summer because if you're a top flight receptionista, honey, the heat is ON.
I'm not saying that it's all work work work, but it's the fine art of looking busy that separates the men from the boys- if you see what I mean. People who breeze in and out of reception don't need to know that I've been ordering my groceries all afternoon, do they? As long as I look up when someone comes in, smile and get back to glaring intently at the screen- pine fresh or citrus burst Harpic?- then it looks as if I'm doing my job.
As with every new assignment, but especially reception work, a few of the girls that work here have been down to introduce themselves. They like to come and have an nosey at the new girl and see if she's cleverer, prettier and thinner than they are. They'll proffer their hands, bedecked with Tania Turner style nails and jewels and say who they are. When I first started out in this game, I used to wonder why they would do this but then it clicked- the receptionista is the first point of access for all those calls from lovers/ shops/ husbands/ screechy gal pals, flowers from men, lunch orders, mail order deliveries etc. You name it, and it will be at my disposal.
Get on the wrong side of a receptionista, and your flowers will be withering a curling up in reception for hours after they're delivered, your lunch order will have cooled somewhat by the time the receptionista has finished pretending to chat up the delivery boy, calls from lovers will mysteriously be re-routed to dry rot helplines. In other words, you gotta be nice.
The girl whose job this is actually got sacked last week and the temp originally drafted in turned out to be useless- no idea how to field calls, flimsy filing and was also caught painting her nails. Where the fuck did this broad think she was? The 1980s? Things have changed since the days where receptionists and secretaries would spend all day brushing their hair and dreaming about getting taken out in their boss's bright red Lamborghini. These days, we're receptionistas and a recep girl has got to be on the ball, a girl for all seasons but especially summer because if you're a top flight receptionista, honey, the heat is ON.
I'm not saying that it's all work work work, but it's the fine art of looking busy that separates the men from the boys- if you see what I mean. People who breeze in and out of reception don't need to know that I've been ordering my groceries all afternoon, do they? As long as I look up when someone comes in, smile and get back to glaring intently at the screen- pine fresh or citrus burst Harpic?- then it looks as if I'm doing my job.
As with every new assignment, but especially reception work, a few of the girls that work here have been down to introduce themselves. They like to come and have an nosey at the new girl and see if she's cleverer, prettier and thinner than they are. They'll proffer their hands, bedecked with Tania Turner style nails and jewels and say who they are. When I first started out in this game, I used to wonder why they would do this but then it clicked- the receptionista is the first point of access for all those calls from lovers/ shops/ husbands/ screechy gal pals, flowers from men, lunch orders, mail order deliveries etc. You name it, and it will be at my disposal.
Get on the wrong side of a receptionista, and your flowers will be withering a curling up in reception for hours after they're delivered, your lunch order will have cooled somewhat by the time the receptionista has finished pretending to chat up the delivery boy, calls from lovers will mysteriously be re-routed to dry rot helplines. In other words, you gotta be nice.
posted by tempgirl @ 4:01 PM
1 Comments:
At 6:19 AM,
Shelley said…
Enjoy the position! I used to be a receptionist as well a few years back...and as a result, I was in on all the dirt. Who was sleeping with who, who the cat fights were between, etc. Great gossip. Fun stories.
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