One of the responsibilities of having our own business is dealing directly with our customers. Hubs does this daily when he discusses the work they want done, when he goes over blueprints, and when he does the actual work in their offices, stores, and most importantly, in their homes. There have been so very many times when we have helped build a store, wired in the offices and then helped the owners build and wire their own homes. Relationships are built and this leads to word-of-mouth advertising and reputation-building. These things are priceless.
I hope I can be professional enough……
I, on the other hand, have become the voice of our company. I am the first voice they hear when they contact us. They tell me what they want, when they need it and depend on me to get that information to Hubs. I deal with the secretaries and wives frequently over the years, but still….we aren’t friends and we don’t really know each other.
I hope I can remember to watch my language……
On Saturday night, we are going to a dinner party being held by a client to celebrate the completion of their new home. Everyone-from contractors, carpenters, plumbers, painters, etc- has been invited. Hubs knows these people., some of them for years. I know no one.
I hope I don’t embarrass Hubs….
I try to avoid these things as much as possible. For one thing, these people are all strangers to me. For another, many of them are soccer moms. My kids are all grown. They discuss day care, camps, dance class and tutors. They get their nails done and hair highlighted and go for massages. Me? I took off my “Union blue” nail polish this morning and now I am looking at blue cuticles that I hope will fade by the weekend. I have to go shopping for a pair of dress slacks (HATE THAT SHIT!!!) and pray that I find some!
I hope I don’t spill my food or drink on myself…….
I am not looking forward to this. It is only Wednesday and I am already feeling the fear. Of what? I’m not sure. Will I have something to contribute to the conversations? Will I have anything in common with these women? If this hostess does a seating chart (yes they do stuff like that) will I sit near enough to my husband? I don’t hover or stick like glue to him, but I like that I can casually touch his sleeve in passing to feel a little more grounded.
I hope my breath don’t stink……
I didn’t even feel this level of angst when I was meeting all of my blogger friends for the first time.
I hope I don’t accidently fart…….