Clearly a parade

 Mark locked himself out of his car this morning. He said it was a gust of wind that pulled the door from his grip. I’m surprised. Maybe the keys were no longer in the ignition. I don’t know. There are parts of the story missing. His war-bag, laptop, sandwich, and ID were still in the back seat.

He called in his VIN and we cut him a new key. I took it to him. He was going to follow me back because he needs to prove who he is in order to request a key for a car. Right?

He works about 12 minutes away. His work place has secure entry including the parking. I picked him up at the front entrance and we went around back to the parking structure.

We cut him a key for the wrong car. He has a Highlander and a Camry. I called in. Mark and I drive back to the dealer, get the second key cut, drive back to his work, only to find that the second key would not unlock the car either. It was another copy of the first key that did not work.

At this point we did not know we made a second mistake. Baffling.

Our service adviser said, “Tell him to go back to work, we’ll figure something out and you (me) can go back later and, you know, fix it.”

Mark, the customer, said that there is no work with the laptop in the back seat and, oh, “there’s a 9:30 meeting I wouldn’t mind missing.”

“Yes,” I said, “let’s take you back to the dealer and have you stand around there in order to keep their minds focused on YOUR problem.”

Meanwhile he and I have spent so much time together that I now know that he has a 1980 Camaro he’s restoring. His daughter Emily is off to University at Denver with her skateboard, bike and guitar. She interested in microbiology and languages. There was some talk about the school selection process; Madison, Vanderbilt, etc. Already she does not like the dorm life. Too much binge drinking. Not her. Her new friends.

After dropping her off for her first year away from home, he and his wife spent a day antiquing in Walnut, Iowa on the way home. One more trip and I might have found out his dog’s shoe size.

He was amazingly good-humored all this while.
“Stuff happens.” he said.

Speaking of stuff - I bought a new cap today. I had decided to do that before I even punched in. It’s a black and white cap. It’s going to be a day with that much clarity. Something has shifted in my thinking; clearly.

Lo and behold, as I come in and start to make the coffee, I’m told the coffee is already made. There’s a new coffee roster in place, the work load has been dispersed and there is no spot for my name anywhere on the clipboard. Let’s let that sink in: there’s no spot for my name anywhere on the clipboard.

I’ve been talking about this to anyone who would listen - including the boss - several times over months and months. Why should the guy that is hired to be OUT OF THE BUILDING be tasked with overseeing the coffee? That is how we are running labor and training. There is no body to do it. I always said let’s get a simpler system and let more than one body share the load.

My perspective finally becomes very clear to management over the last six weeks because the three coffee vending machines have been out of service more often than not. Customers like their coffee and the dealer was starting to hear directly from them on the post-service surveys.

Now we have a temporary coffee brewing workaround in place. Today two of the three dead machines were removed. The one last machine is limping along ... so we’ll keep it. Right?

It was a day for a parade - clear as black and white - and I was all ready in my bright and shiny new cap.