That bit felt nice not gonna lie.
|Concerned, in a sexy way|
As is to be expected, the first several weeks were loaded down like a middle-Eastern donkey cart with training. Module after module, with scintillating titles like
"How to apply paint properly so you can thence set about watching it dry (and how to document the process for the later inevitable audit" and
"You, management, and the company. A threesome designed to succeed."
Like many companies, my new/old one offers training in four basic flavors. They are
- 1) modules that involve mere reading of SOPs and clicking 'DONE' at the end (my favorite),
- 2) some with animations and no audio (an OK presentation, but lacks pizzazz),
- 3) shows with animation and sound with intermittent quizzes to trip you up (I happen to excel at this type of module, having learning long ago that if someone's going to put all that work into the training they're damned sure going to want to you pay attention and not feel complete fool in the midst of it because you can't answer a simple question like 'in what country can you NOT take a contact out to dinner but you can offer them sporting tickets?'), and
- 4) my most hated type of training: the 'Marci.'
The Marci is a type of training that involves animation, sound, intermittent quizzes, and the ultimate turn-off: stock photos of 'colleagues' in 'conversations' about the driest of the dry materials. Think compliance, and audit readiness, and document retention. THAT dry.
((DISCLAIMER!!! I am of the opinion that compliance, and audit readiness, and records retention are important topics, but they do not need the Marci. Nobody needs to hear conversations (also captured in speech bubbles on-screen) between two people pretending to be corporate employees but who are really only doing it for 50 bucks a shoot and access to the craft table carrying on this chat (see below) while being featured in a static display of one of four poses:
- FULLY AWARE))
The chat goes like this:
Marci, curious (dressed in a polyester suit that would make an Eskimo sweat at -20F): So James, I see you've completed the corporate training for 'How to keep fish from rotting at your desk, SOP-FSHSTNK101.'
James, curious (in Dockers, an Oxford, and a tie): Yes, Marci, I finished it two days ago, as per the requirements in our training system.
Marcie, concerned: I also noticed that you had to take the assessment three times in order to pass.
James, stern: Yes, I did. Some asshole in marketing kept pinging me on IM wanting those figures you said I'd give him two days before the deadline, and I had to split my attention between the tasks. At 8 p.m, on a Friday. DURING my wedding rehearsal.
Marci, stern: Pat of being a good employee, JAMES, is learning to budget your time. Didn't you take that 3-hour training on organizational systems and using the e-mail janitor like you were supposed to (TRN-IMSKRWD-203)?
James, concerned and stern and curious (now THIS is acting!): Marci, you know I've been here for only two weeks and that it normally takes the average employee 4 weeks to dive so deep into the prescribed training that they get to those flabby stupid CYA modules that even Satan himself has avoided assigning Hell's occupants. I simply haven't budgeted the time on a daily basis to get the modules done much faster than I am right now what with the shit-ton of work you're throwing at me and trying to learn all the systems that go along with the crap work I have to do which is NOTHING like you said it would be, BEE TEE DOUBLE-YEW. I TOOK A ONE-DAY HONEYMOON BECAUSE OF THIS COMPANY AND YOU, YOU HARRIDAN, SO BY GOD IF YOU ASK ME ONE MORE TIME ABOUT FRIKKING TRAINING YOU'RE GETTING MY RESIGNATION AND A CALL TO THE 'ACTION LINE' (which I learned about on Day 1 and haven't yet forgotten about because I figured I'd need it sooner than later). Back off, 'mentor,' because once I'm DONE with training I am your BOSS and you will have to suck it up so hard your head might juuuuust cave in.
Marci, fully aware: OK James, that sounds like a plan. Please ask me anything about any other training module in which I appear, as I'm so bland yet flatly passive aggressive in a shiny lip gloss and sensible haircut kind of way I might have fooled you into thinking I'm a powerless automaton in a skin suit but I think I might just be able to TAKE YOU DOWN, PUSSY with my robot powers and THEN who's the boss, HUH?!?!
James, fully aware: Touche, Marci. But remember, I approve your paychecks.
Marci, concerned: Touche, James.
That's the Marci.
Kind of. The corporate version involves less swearing, surprisingly.
Next up? Let's talk about do-it-yourself 'onboarding.' It's the fun thing none of the kids are doing!