Why I'm Going to Church on Sunday

I was sitting at my desk at work around 2:00pm today, wasting time on Facebook. My boss was in a meeting in the back with my coworker. It was a typically calm afternoon with nothing much to do. I was trying to figure out how to make the afternoon go by faster when the neighbor who lives next door to my office came to the front door.

"You've got a fire back there."

I blinked. "What?"

"The fence caught fire back there. It's right next to the garage."

Being the employee with the most seniority, I park my car in the garage.

I was already running.

I streaked back to the meeting room where I'm shocked that my boss understood anything I said. "Donthere'safirehurryyouhavetomoveyourbike!"

He jumped up like, well...like he was on fire. I streaked back to my desk and grabbed my keys. By the time I got my keys and ran back to where the garage was, my boss had already pressed the button to lift the garage door.

The garage was indeed on fire.

The garage door actually ended up getting stuck about halfway up when the power failed. My boss ducked under the door and went to open the door manually. Unfortunately, with all the adrenaline, he ended up breaking the cord that controls the manual mechanism.

The door started to fall closed.

I wish I could say I was of some help here. But I wasn't. I stood and watched like I was made of wood.

From inside the garage, my boss slid under the door, caught it, and heaved it upwards.

The fire was eating through the wall to my right, and there was a thick layer of smoke along the ceiling.

My boss's Harley was closest to the flames. I motioned for him to go first. We could hear the fire truck sirens at this point. He walked his bike out and parked in the parking lot next to the garage.

Oh HELL no! Has he SEEN any movies? When I got my car out, trying to ignore the fire eating through the wall of the garage, I parked three doors down just to be safe. By the time I got back, the garage was engulfed in smoke and flames, and the firemen were hosing it down. I had been gone maybe 90 seconds.

The scene that I returned to looked like this:



THAT WAS WHERE MY CAR WAS!!!

All I can think about is that I never would have known until it was too late. My car is okay because of our neighbor. Our rock star neighbor. I shook his hand and thanked him profusely. He shrugged it off like he was just driving by and anyone would do it. Dude! You saved my car! I've already been through trauma with my car. I know how it feels. You're awesome! I feel like I should buy him a horse. Or a kingdom. With a castle. And THEN a horse.

I took more pictures as the fire died down. The Indianapolis Fire Department did an awesome job and showed up super quickly. More pictures below, the last one of what the garage ended up looking like in the end. We're not yet sure how the fire started. Just that no one was hurt, and everyone's vehicles were safe.





The wall that's missing? That's my boss's side of the garage. The side that today housed his beloved Harley. We were both so lucky. I have to go to church on Sunday because, well, I believe in thanking the people responsible when you're lucky. Either that or buying them a kingdom with a castle.

Corporate Culture

In college, my business internship was for a global HVAC manufacturer - a huge company. I made several friends in my department of 9 who I no longer speak to. My first job out of college was for a market research company with about 350 employees. (Looking back, it doesn't seem like there were that many of us, but I just Googled the company, and that's what Google says.) I still have several good friends from that job. Now I work for a company of three people. Total. At the rate the company sizes are decreaseing, it seems that my only option in the future would be to open my own company where I am my only employee.

Working for a small company has been one of the best experiences of my life and one of the worst experiences of my life. The perks are obviously more flexibility, no office politics whatsoever (one of my least favorite parts of working at my last job,) and a chance to play a variety of different roles within the company. The downside, is, well, it's me and my boss for the majority of the day. I don't really have the option to not feel social. If we have an argument, it's not like we can avoid each other for a week while things cool down. And when he's traveling...well, it's just me.

I'm pretty sure I thought of all of those things (except for the being alone while my boss travels) before I took the job. What I didn't foresee was the dynamic that would develop between my boss and I. It's...unique.

When my boss met my parents (um, yeah. See? Different.) he explained it like this, "It's almost like Emily's my best friend. I spend more time with her than I do anyone else, even my wife." And it is like that. Like we're almost friends. I mean, he probably knows more about the details of my every day life than anyone else. Even the boy*. And the same thing goes the other way as well. I can tell my boss's wife things about his daily life that I'm sure he wouldn't think to mention when he goes home at night. Things about his patterns of behavior that maybe she doesn't have time to notice only because of the sheer volume of time that he and I spend together. If I have a problem, I'll discuss it with my boss to get his perspective, and he does the same with me. I'm pretty sure we know everything about each other's lives. It's not easy to keep secrets from someone sitting 10 feet away from you for 40 hours a week.

But we're not really friends. We don't hang out outside of the workplace. It's difficult to describe. The company culture is like a family, but there's still the clear distinction between employer and employee. And this feeling of "family" also extends to our customers and suppliers....even though we still have business relationships with them.

Each year when we send out company Christmas cards, we try to think of something unique and fun to send to our customers (each of whom we know personally.) Our Christmas cards each year are so fun that our customers are already asking after this year's batch. The first year I was employed, we sent a cartoon caricature of the three of us (that I had to color individually with colored pencils... all 500 of them. We won't be doing that again.) The second year, we sent a picture of downtown Indianapolis. (Boss didn't like that one so much. Too impersonal.) The third year (after they had gotten me firmly entrenched in the world of pit bull rescue) we sent a picture of the three of us with our dogs. The fourth year, we sent headshots of each of us as Christmas ornaments on a tree (don't ask.) This year? We're sending a collage of baby pictures. No joke. I can't post my boss's and his wife's pictures....but I can sure as heck show you mine. I guess I'm not a baby in this picture...I'm about a year and a half old, and this was taken at the Indianapolis Zoo. I just think it's hilarious. Beyond my birthmark and the color of my hair, I can't really see much of myself in the tiny person in that picture.

When I called my mother and asked her to send me baby pictures, and she found out what they were for, she said, "Wait, for your company Christmas cards?" Um, yeah. Her silent question hung in the air. Meh, it may be weird, but I just chalk it up to our corporate culture. I like this better than the usual office politics.

So go support your local "mom and pop" store. That's what this experience has taught me. The personal relationships seem....healthier...somehow. Both for the employees of the company and the customers. Don't believe me? Take a sec and get to know the owner of the next locally owned business you go to. That will make you feel better about spending the extra $0.50. After all, it would be a shame if all small business were eventually run off by corporate giants. I mean, do you see WalMart sending out Christmas cards with adorable Italian/Peruvian babies on them?
*I tried, but I'm a creature of habit. I'll revisit that soon.

My Experience at the Jerry Springer show

Please note the use of "at" instead of "on."

Yes, yesterday, September 12th, instead of spending 8 hours in the office, my boss and I spent over 15 hours together on a trek up to Chicago to sit in the audience of the Jerry Springer show.
We didn't just go on a whim. As per the excellent level of customer service we offer here at my company, when one of our customers from Barbados was on vacation in Canada, stopped to visit a vendor in Chicago, and mentioned that they've always wanted to visit the Jerry Springer show...well, we just had to oblige.

(I'll admit. My boss was a bit.....hesitant. But my chants of "Jer-ry! Jer-ry!" helped to convince him.)

We had lunch at the ESPNZone first (sweet!!) and then headed over to the NBC Tower in Chicago. Our instructions were to arrive by 1:15pm at the latest. It was raining, so we arrived at about 12:30pm, and walked right to the front of the line. Not 2 minutes later, there were approximately 50 people in line behind us. We spent a good 45 minutes trying to figure out which women were going to show their boobs. Fun for everyone involved.

Once we got through the line, showed our ID to prove we were over 18, went through a metal detector (no joke....they also took away all cigarettes, umbrellas, heavy purses....anything that could be used for a weapon), we sat in a holding room for approximately one hour looking in eager anticipation at anyone in a uniform that came into our room. The guy in front of us made the following observation that wasn't too far off the mark, "Now I know how dogs at the pound feel, looking at people who come in and trying to communicate with their eyes how much they want to be taken someplace else."

During this time, we got to know the people around us (one family was from Boston, and had flown into Chicago that morning, were leaving that night, and came ONLY for the Jerry Springer show) and continued to observe the people filing in. People watching was almost the best part. Money was wagered on women who were "sure things" to show their boobs.

We were finally taken into the studio and we sat in the second row - not 7 feet from the guests, and about 2 feet from the edge of the stage. We were psyched!!! If there was a fight, we were going to be right there!!! A group of 4 girls who were sure things to strip were seated in the front row as expected. They were ready and willing to bare it all. The bouncers had to convince them to keep their clothing on while the cameras weren't rolling.

Steve was actually the host as Jerry is currently busy with "Dancing with the Stars." That was a bit of disappointment, but we were not deterred....until the first guest came out. She was a mom who talked about her daughter and how she was a wonderful little girl, until her father had an accident and lost a leg. She started to cry as she remembered the early days and how "giving" she was....how "thoughtful" and "caring" and how the accident changed her. You could feel the audience anticipation for what was to come.

Then the mom started to cry. She talked about how her daughter was addicted to heroin, and had begun prostituting herself to support her habit. She said that she had come on the Jerry Springer show because she had researched them on the internet and was convinced that they could help.

(there were a few snickers at this)

The daughter came out separately to talk to Steve, and it gradually dawned on the audience that Steve was playing the cop/counselor role. He was actually trying to be Maury...or Oprah... He wanted to help these people!! He actually made the girl look at her high school graduation photo and say, "I want to be that person again" before she broke down in sobs. (!!!)
There would be no fighting. There would be no name calling. There would be no baring of breasts.

We were collectively stunned. When the guests were taken off the stage, the audience began to speculate as to what could happen. The pimp would be brought out? The dad with one leg would come out on stage? Maybe THEY would fight? The dad could beat the pimp with....well.... We absolutely could not believe what we had just seen. After all, who comes to the Jerry Springer show to see counseling?

When the second set of guests were brought out, the audience was rowdy. It turned out to be a love triangle with a lot of potential. The guy who was on stage first described himself as very close to his cousin. He was a gay male, and he had become close to both his cousin and his cousin's girlfriend. However, his cousin didn't treat his girlfriend right, you know? He called her names, he didn't love her....etc. One night, the girlfriend was devastated to find out that her boyfriend had cheated on her. She called the cousin, they went out to a bar together, got drunk, and slept together (scandal!) A month later, she found out she was pregnant. Who was the father???

It had all the good makings of a typical Jerry Springer show. However, when the boyfriend came out, he decided to take the high road, not beat up the gay man, and merely whip him with his quick wit. Luckily, he actually WAS quick witted (and funny) or else the audience may have revolted. Unfortunately, we were still disappointed because, really, who takes the high road on Jerry Springer? The audience chanted for the gay man to tell them how many um....men he had pleasured, chanted for him to strip, chanted for him to start a fight..... The comments from the audience were fabulous. The gay man almost came into the audience to fight.

Unfortunately for my boss, the girls who were a sure thing to show their boobs didn't get the chance. In fact, the only lady who bared anything was about 900 years old - and sitting right next to my boss. It was fabulous.

One of the bouncers (one of the hot bouncers) ended up mooning the audience. That wasn't so bad....

All in all, it was a disappointment, but I could see how the experience had potential. I want to go back. I want to see a good fight. I mean, I hate to perpetuate the Jerry Springer cycle....but these people go on there voluntarily...I'm not twisting their arms....I just want to be there to see the carnage...

I do have beads though. And a fabulous picture of me on the Jerry Springer pole. And of course, the group photo with Steve. Next time, I want one with Jerry.