I was on the cusp of becoming a Beauty Salon Supply tycoon. Allow me to explain:

Upon graduation from college most of my friends searched for a job in the city; that is, Manhattan, which was all but unaffordable to live in for a graduate in an entry-level position. So, commuting on the Long Island Railroad was the order of the day; and what an order! It was hot in summer, cold in winter and always crammed full of people. It took well over an hour to navigate, half of your pay, and you were not ever guaranteed a seat. It was likely that a Subway ride awaited as well. It seemed a living hell to me. So I proudly announced that I was going to get a great job on Long Island to avoid the ridiculous commute. Not so easy. I had a degree in Biology and Psychology. Basically, I had no plan in school; I just followed the courses that interested me, homed in on Biology as my major, and by the end of junior year saw that a Psych degree was also in sight. My Biology advisor, Dr. Battin, was a curmudgeon and he was blunt: “Why the hell do you want to mess with Psychology. What’s the point?” In the end he was right, there was no real point, but seemed like a feather in my cap at the time.

Anyway, armed with my BS degrees and no interest or money for graduate school, I was fortunate to land an interview at Pall Corporation, one of the most important businesses on Long Island at the time. Pall manufactures lab-grade filtration, separation, and purification filters. Very technical stuff, with a beautiful campus on the north shore of Long Island. It turned out that my friends and I were building a caravan to drive back upstate to our alma mater in Binghamton, NY to attend some foolishness on the day of my interview. I explained my predicament and a few friends drove me to Pall for my interview so we could leave directly from there. Long story short, my tie did not make the transfer to my friend’s car so when I changed in the Pall parking lot, I had no tie and a light pink shirt. And my only suit was one I bought in High School for the Prom. It might have been light blue with wide lapels and large bell bottoms. It might even have had thin pink pinstripes. (are you thinking Saturday Night Fever?) I’m sure I looked ridiculous. It crossed my mind that I might look like I was going to a party, not an interview. The lobby receptionist tipped it in by saying “You look like you are going to a party, not an interview.” Nice.

My interviewer explained that they usually hire chemistry majors, not biologists, but that my resume caught his attention since his son was going to Binghamton U. and he was impressed that I was a Resident Assistant there. He wanted to meet me.

The interview did not go well. I lacked the necessary skills/experience and had absolutely no interview expertise. I didn’t even think about answers to likely questions. Of course, I had no earthly idea what any of the equipment was, and we both recognized that he had better qualified (and more modestly dressed) applicants. I think he may even have withdrawn his son from Binghamton. Oddly, I walked out of the building feeling like I had escaped, and tore off my suit as I loaded into the back seat of the party train.

During my renewed job search I contacted a recruiter on Long Island. Well, there were precious few recruiters on LI; mostly just employment agencies. The one I chose made me take an aptitude test, which I thought might be a good idea. After grading, the guy told me, with some enthusiasm, that I had earned the highest score ever on the test. This was not good. I am no genius. (in fact, I misspelled the word genious when writing this). The test was not hard; basic math and a few logic questions. I quickly realized that the jobs available through this place were probably not upper-tier, long-term career possibilities. Still, the guy said he was going to send me to the best position they had! The owners of a Beauty Salon Supply wholesale business were looking to retire in a few years and wanted to train someone to take over and eventually buy them out. They sold everything from chairs, mirrors and lighting to brushes, combs, scissors, shampoo and hair color.

“Not interested”, I said. He sold me hard on the potential and asked me just to go to an interview. I did. There were red flags flying all over. It wasn’t an interview at all. Mr. Schneider acted as though I was already chosen for the role and gave me a full tour of the place. Although it did no retail business, the place was located in a large retail setting along a busy boulevard. It might have been a Woolworth’s discount store in a prior life. The small offices were in the front and a warehouse with a package and shipping station took up most of the building. I met the office manager, Mrs. Schneider, and their daughter who served in the customer service role. This 30ish year old daughter apparently had no interest in continuing in the business. Not a good sign. The only other employee was a skinny old guy named Pete, in his early 60s who ran the warehouse.

Mr. Schneider laid out a schedule that would slowly acquaint me with the business. His plan was that after a year with the company, he would begin to transition out. I still wasn’t really on board. I like the idea of entrepreneurship, but Beauty Products and selling to Salons was not what I had pictured. Still, I had no other opportunities at the time, the pay was surprisingly good, and…what the heck!

My first two weeks were spent in the warehouse getting to know the products and the system for taking and executing orders. For some strange reason, Pete was combative from the beginning. He thought I was hired to replace him, so I addressed that, but he never let up. The warehouse looked like most, I guess. Rows of metal shelving surrounded by rollers strategically placed for access as one picked items for orders. The products were numbered sequentially by type which made sense initially. But it soon became apparent that high-volume items were dispersed throughout the warehouse. And many orders contained ONLY a few of these high-volume items, like hair color or scissors. Now, I am not a logistician, but I am lazy, so I mentioned to Pete that maybe we should move the highest volume items to the front where they could be easily reached and quickly packed. You would have thought I asked him for his first born.

It went on like this for a week. He didn’t even like the way I applied the tape to the packages.

The next week I spent in the office reviewing accounts and learning the accounts payable/receivable software. I was struck by the relatively low dollar total of average orders. This couldn’t be a recipe for success, I thought. And they had almost no marketing effort beyond advertising in industry magazines. Apparently, they were known as a low-cost option and customers found them. I could tell that they had lost the passion for this business many years ago. They were just going through the motions, and I wasn’t yet sure they were very profitable. When I asked to see the latest financials the owners were elusive and put me off. By the end of the second week filled with mystery, I lost interest. I felt a lack of transparency and trust.

During week 3, I took a day off to go golfing with friends. Upon my return to the office, I learned that Mr. Schneider had fired Pete! He explained that it was obvious that Pete and I didn’t get along (actually, I had no problem with him; but he certainly didn’t like me). He also thought that I was losing interest (true) and took the day off because of Pete. (not true). I implored him to get Pete back; that he was a fine, caring employee who ran the entire warehouse all by himself. “No,” he said, “it’s not working with Pete.” I couldn’t stand the thought that this hard-working cantankerous old guy was losing a job that was clearly important to him, just to placate some spoiled, ungrateful college kid who wasn’t even serious about the job. So, I told Mr. Schneider there and then that I quit and that he should hire Pete back before he gets another job.

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It’s interesting to look back on this opportunity from where I sit today. It may have been a wonderful chance to become an entrepreneur, learn a business, make some necessary changes, and grow. But it was not a happy place; nobody seemed thrilled to be there. It’s likely that it was barely profitable; enough for one family. Add to that the burden of financing the Schneider’s retirement and the numbers probably didn’t work out well. Finally, it was a bit too early for me. I’m a little risk-averse and was more interested in the corporate life and a steady pay day. So the very next week I went to a real recruiter in Manhattan who eventually helped me land my first real job at Dun & Bradstreet, complete with a commute from hell. (See blog: Birth of a Salesman at https://wordpress.com/post/letmebefrankblog.com/362

As always, Thanks for reading and Be Well!

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