Making Mountains Out Of Molehills

Yesterday I had a little training over at Yakov Smirnoff, the theatre that hired me to work in their box office. Key word: little.

It's an annoying story.

They just switched ticketing systems. So here we are, all eight bajillion of us (ok so it was really more like 8) crammed into their tiny-ass call center (basically just a room with three desks stuffed into it), crowded around one computer with the new system on it.

It gets better.

They had someone from the corporate office of the company who made the new ticketing system on the phone, to tell us the basics of how to use it. So the person who had the phone pressed the speaker button. Nothing. Except for hanging up on the nice woman on the phone.

So they then proceeded to spend the next 40 minutes (You think I'm kidding? I'm not.) trying to get ANY of the phones in the room to go on speaker.

So here I was, burying my face in my hands, unable to express my severe impatience and frustration at a situation that everyone was making much more difficult than it had to be, simply because I really wanted to make a good impression, and because I didn't know any of these people.

I kept my cool.

You all would have been proud of me.

Eventually someone did what we should have done 40 minutes before:

USED THE SPEAKER ON THEIR CELL PHONE.