Want the Best Working for You? Pay Them When You Say

One of the most frustrating things I endured when I was a consultant were late payments.

It’s one thing to pay your credit card, cable or cell phone bills late. It’s another to pay human beings working for you late, because those people depend on that money to pay their credit card, cable or cell phone bills.

I understand the nature of small business, and how cash flow is king. However, even the most loved kings have been knocked from their thrones, when they’ve failed their subjects.

Not that entrepreneurs are kings, and those working for them are their property.

But you’d think that some have this flawed mentality, by the lack of respect they show those working for them, with the blatant disregard they have for living up to their promises, contracts, or other working relationships.

I’ve had clients who constantly needed to be reminded of their past due payments. I’ve also had clients who had a tradition of paying late, suddenly pay early, only to show their true stripes by requesting additional work, or projects.

It’s nice to earn the respect of a client to the point that they request more. It’s not so nice when they go back to paying late after they no longer need or want those extra services, or if you declined their original offer, because they wanted it done at a ridiculously below market value cost.

Failing to respect those working for you isn’t just unprofessional and rude, but really can lead to major misunderstandings as well.

Nasty rumours start in companies by people that don’t feel welcome being there. It doesn’t matter if the person is a full-time or part-time employee, a contractor, or a consultant – if the higher-ups running the show don’t make them feel wanted, respected and valued, they’ll become a bigger problem quickly.

Because the biggest problem in all the companies I’ve ever worked for is communications. And the biggest communications problems start when the company’s people feel unwanted, disrespected or undervalued.

And the surest and quickest way to make anyone working for you to feel unwanted, disrespected or undervalued is to not pay them when you agreed too.

That’s just common sense, and part of being a responsible business owner, always pay your people on time.

It’s wonderful how business schools these days are teaching the latest in management theory, lean start-up, even basic marketing and bookkeeping. What they should also be teaching those wantrepreneurs is the most valuable lesson of them all – always pay your people on time.

Most employees live pay-cheque-to-pay-cheque, so if you are a bad a boss, they’ll stick with you, until they find another job.

Problem is, finding work in today’s economy isn’t quick and easy. So, while you think you have a loyal and dedicated person working for you, secretly, behind your back, they’ll be looking to replace you as their boss.

While people look for another boss, they often spread rumours, or worse – tell their tales of their woe, their feelings of disrespect, and the horrors of working for you.

Although workplace rumours can kill a company, nothing stops great people working for a company faster than horror stories from those who have or currently work there.

So, by paying your people late, you could be cutting off the flow of the most important resource a company needs – it’s people. 

Why Millennial’s Can’t Get a Job? Here’s a Hint: TXT MSG

Wrap your big brain around this . . .

Out of the hundreds of resumes people send you for a current job posting, you finally narrow down 10 really good ones, so you call them.

You get voicemail. Understandable, they don’t recognize your number. So you leave a warm and polite message, something like:

Hi John, this is Jordan Green at Blurrv Media Inc., I’m calling about a resume you sent us in regards to the Account Manager job. I was impressed with your resume, and wanted to chat with you about the company, the job and learn about you in the process. Please call me at . . . thank you.

I go about my day. No call back. Next day – no call back. DAYS later – still nothing.

Less than 10 percent of the people who send me resumes to the jobs we have posted are calling back.

Then it dawned on me, I remember reading several articles about how people under 30 don’t talk on the phone anymore. They text, instant message, even use it to emphasize key points when gesturing in a restaurant – but they don’t TALK anymore.

“Every time I see my voicemail icon pop up, I think, oh God, who died?” said one young person in one of the reports I read.

So, I decided to try an experiment. Instead of calling people who sent me a resume, I sent a short text message:

Thx for the CV. If u r still looking for work, please call me at this # and we can discuss.

(I even used texting slang. So unprofessional! I know!)

EVERYONE I texted called back. Well, okay, one person texted me back:

Yeah, Im still uneployed. Who is this?

(I even used her txting slang. So unprofessional! She’ll be looking 4work 4ver!)

Upon finally connecting voice with the rest, I’d ask: Did you get my voicemail?

They all said something along the lines of: “Oh, I never check my messages.”

One person admitted that when her voicemail gets full, she just deletes them without listening to them first.

The idea, as ridiculous as it was, to text potential job candidates, because they weren’t checking their messages, came to me because I received a text in regards to a message I had left on a prospect’s voicemail:

Hi, I just got a call frm this numb. If u r a telemarketer, DO NOT CALL BACK. Otherwise, what do you want?

(I even used her rude, unprofessional tone of voice. I know – who’d want to hire her EVER?)

I think our politicians can stop promising job creation, and focus their lies – I mean their campaign pitches – on more productive avenues.

I’ve finally figured out why the under 30 crowd can’t find work.

They only text message. Well, they do a lot more than that on their mobile devices, from snapping self-absorbed pictures of themselves (selfies) to surfing the net, to listening to music.

They just don't talk on the thing, or check it's messages.

(How do they expect to get a job if they don’t answer the phone?)

That’s a very good question.

My answer – wait – let me text it to you:

They prolly dnt farther ahead than their current txt msg convo.

What?

I said, they probably don’t think farther ahead than their current text message conversation.

It’s so unprofessional to text someone that sent you a resume in confidence.

It’d be like a woman sending her boyfriend a romantic text message while his unknowing wife is using his phone – nothing good can come from this.

And nothing good can come from a generation that can’t communicate.

Not that texting isn’t a FORM of communications, it’s just the wrong one for landing a job.

Part of the reason employers want to TALK ON THE PHONE as a point of first contact is to evaluate a potential employee’s communications skills, and get a sense for who they are.

We want to see how they express themselves, get a sense of their personality, their character and so much more than you could ever get from a text message, regardless of how many emoticons you toss in.

Not that condensing one’s thoughts into short snappy sentences isn’t a skill.

But I’m sure even the staff at Twitter needs to be able to use more than 140 characters to do their jobs, because if they didn’t, that company would have closed it’s doors and gone belly-up by now.

So, if you’re under 30, looking for work, and wondering why you haven’t been getting called back, perhaps you should LISTEN to your messages BEFORE deleting them.

(I knw, makes sense! So clear. So concise. Common sense? Too bad ppl -30 dnt this way.)

Please and Thank You Go a Long Way

Perhaps it’s our increasingly fast-paced society, or maybe people just don’t care anymore, but please and thank you really do go a long way in business.

Regardless of who I am talking with, be it a fellow entrepreneur, a sales person, or the janitor sweeping the floor, I’m always polite and courteous.

That’s the way I was taught, and not just by my folks.

I remember when I was just another cog in the corporate wheel, working alongside some of the highest executives in a company. Although I didn’t have the power or prestige of being at the same level as they were, they all made me feel welcome, be treating me as an equal.

They never ordered or commanded me to do anything. They always asked, politely, with a please, followed by a thank you.

Some even thanked me afterwards for a job well done.

These executives, and others back then that I was fortunate enough to learn from, taught me you really do get more from your colleagues with sugar than with vinegar. I always strive to ask people to do something, with a please and a thank you. And I make the effort to follow-up with people too, personally thanking them whenever I can, because those people will remember that – and want to work with and for me again and again.

Oh I remember the occasional slave drivers in senior roles, that demanded, ordered and scared the pants off their staffs with unrealistic deadlines, threats of termination, and even public shaming for not performing.

I also remember how much longer it took to get anything done under the slave drivers, because of the frightful working conditions, the work suffered, usually being rushed and delivered full of mistakes. We’d then have to correct those errors, which took more time, which angered the slave driver, and just made everyone all the more on edge.

I’ll never work with or for the slave drivers from my past. They’ve earned a rare and dishonorable spot in my bad books.

Please and thank you really do matter in everything you do.

Perhaps there are more slave drivers in the corporate world since the decline of middle management, and the lack of real stable and secure employment?

Perhaps that’s what is causing so many people in business to simply forget the most basic of manners – please and thank you.

They aren’t big words, yet they seem to be lacking in many of the correspondence and calls I have.

From a venture capitalist, that granted me all of 15-minutes on his afternoon drive home, yelling at me over his cell’s speaker phone, because he didn’t have the manners – or the balls – to talk to me face-to-face.

To some guy in a cheap polyester suit sitting across from me in an office reception area munching on a sandwich, sputtering crumbs everywhere. I was waiting to meet with someone, it could have been him. Turns out, he worked for the company, and was using the reception seating as his personal lunchroom, because after he had his lunch, he got up, and used his access card to go back into the office.

How rude. And not a very good image to present to potential customers.

Even in our job applications, I’m seeing the lack of civility, as people demand that we call them back, or don’t bother calling back if the job doesn’t have X, Y and Z.

Really?

You’re looking for work, and telling potential employers what you’re expectations of THEM are?

Seriously?

I get emails from people demanding I call them at such and such a time, without a please or a thank you. Voice messages demand my immediate attention, yet again, no please or thank you – sometimes not even a “hello.”

We’re all busy, that’s just the nature of our blink-in-a-second-world.

However, please and thank you really do go a long way.

Because you never know what people will remember of you -- and your manners -- or lack of them.

Life Lessons from an Entrepreneur – Work Can Wait – It Really Can

I’ve always been big on promoting and encouraging a work environment with an even work-life balance.

If all you do is work, and nothing else, although you may get an ‘A’ for effort, eventually you’ll burn out. And who wants to work with someone that doesn’t have a life outside of work?

After years in the corporate world, now that I’m doing my own thing and running my own show, I still have problems living up to my own work-life balance ethic.

As I write this, it is Tuesday evening, a little past 6pm. I’ve been working straight since 9am. Well, okay, not quite – I took about 10 minutes to go to the corner pizza place and grab a couple of slices for lunch.

But I rushed back to my desk, and began chomping as I worked. Napkins and wet naps are every office worker’s savior.

I know – I’m your classic over achiever. And like most classic over achievers, I’ll probably end up in the hospital with a coronary.

I blame Mother Nature for today’s post. After a brutal winter, and not much of a spring so far, as the close of the working day came, the sun began to shine, and I looked out my window and saw some kids kicking a ball to each other as they scooted past.

As I watched the kids kick on past, the streets and sidewalks filled with people leaving their offices for their families and friends. I began thinking about work-life balance.

Especially, as I heard the hum of my computer, almost begging me to come back and finish the never-ending work that needs to be done.

Even as I type this, Mother Nature continues her torture. Now the streets and sidewalks are filled with people doing things other than work.

Some guy just walked by with his dog, a handful of joggers strode past, and cute couples are snuggling down the street for a night on the town.

Meanwhile, I am typing at my computer, surrounded by my papers, my phones, my work.

Work can wait – it really can.

End of the day, whatever isn’t done, can be finished tomorrow.

“Go home,” I’d tell myself, if I were on my team. “You’re no good to us if you’re burnt out. Go home.”

So why am I still sitting across from the glow of my computer screen, hammering out this piece like there is no tomorrow?

I enjoy what I do, perhaps too much. Perhaps that’s the problem?

Though I also enjoy listening to and watching podcasts, catching up with friends, and enjoying the fresh air and sunshine which Mother Nature continues to flaunt in my face.

Mother Nature may be wise.

Instead of taunting and tormenting me, perhaps she’s trying to lure me away from my work, so that I don’t burn out, and become a dreary tired drone.

Wouldn’t that be ironic?

Most people start businesses for professional and personal freedom. They take the leap necessary to become an entrepreneur, so that they can work the hours they want, earn the money they want, and live the life outside of work they’ve always wanted.

However, it’s now 6:18pm and I’m still on my butt, typing away.

While the sun is getting low in the night’s sky. Eventually, it will be dark.

Don’t worry – I won’t sleep at the office.

I’m done for today.

That’s it!

I’m out of here.

I’m about to listen to my own advice, and get some fresh air and sunshine.

Because work can wait – it really can.

ATTACKED! How a Drunken Stoned Homeless Man and a Job Seeker Made My Week Hell

I’m certainly glad last week is history, because it was a hell of a week – or rather a week of hell.

It started off well, the usual business of running a business. But towards the end of the week, I was lucky to get out with my life.

Thursday evening I was in the poor, rundown, Yonge and College street area of Toronto for the Wildsound Film Festival. It’s a great little unknown gem of a film fest, where five to six independently produced short films from around the world are shown in one night, and everyone attending gets to participate in the discussions about the films.

In keeping with the ambiance of the magic of movie making, the Wildsound Film Festival takes place in one of the oldest movie houses in Toronto – the Carlton Cinemas. It’s a historic building, one of the first movie theatres in the city, and it’s got a lot of amazing character, with much of it’s original architectural wooden rustic design and charm.

There are also historic movie posters, and wonderful works of art by local artists on display, reminding you of what it was like to watch a movie before the megaplexes of today, with their raked cinema seating, and sticky soda-pop-soaked floors.

Although the theatre shines as a beacon from a time long since gone, when going to the movies was an event, not just another night out, the surrounding neighborhood has become an urban slum.

There are always homeless people lying on the sewer grates and pan-handling passersby from just about every corner, as the crumbling infrastructure of low income subsidized apartments crashes into the skyline of the modernized recently built condos, both fighting for their equal space in a city with a hidden reality.

It’s a sad silent reality sweeping across Canada’s largest city – wealthy building and construction firms buy entire city blocks, while their executives “donate” to politician’s political campaigns, so that their requests to demolish the older, rental units and put up luxurious high-rise condos get passed.

Sure, residents of the rental units get first dibs on the new condos which replace their rental apartments – but think about it – if you could afford to buy a condo – wouldn’t you already be living in a condo? Those who rent can’t afford to buy, and so they end up being tossed out of their homes, so some greedy land developer can make a mint off of their prime real estate.

This problem gets worse, as the numbers of rental units falls, due to the increase in condos built.

As this sad silent reality has been going on for some time, the numbers of people homeless in Toronto has skyrocketed.

And that’s very evident from the horrors which I experienced last Thursday, as we stopped into a local McDonald’s to grab a quick bite before the film festival.

We were standing in line, undecided what to eat. So when our turn came in line, we did a Canadian thing, and politely let the person behind us go ahead, while we continued to ponder over the menu.

The person behind us thanked us, and practically fell over us, barely able to keep steady on his own two feet.

He was a black man, with scruffy dark hair, in jeans and a red jacket, dancing to some unheard beat in his own head. Though he wasn’t wearing earphones, and by his loud and vulgar language when he placed his order, indicated he wasn’t all there.

He acted like someone who feasted upon a recipe of drugs, booze, and who knows what else. And he continued to make a scene as he paid for his burger and fries entirely out of coins, probably from what he managed to cobble together from begging.

With his tray of greasy fast food, he went over to the condiments section, and took massive amounts of napkins, straws, and other things. Mumbling to himself, while dancing to the songs in his drug induced mind.

He freaked out those around him, and was repeatedly told by the staff to take a seat.

Eventually he did, right next to our table.

We quickly got up and moved to another table.

Usually, dinners out, even at a fast food restaurant, are times for enjoyable chit-chat. My poor girlfriend was so scared, she was wolfing down her burger and fries like it was her last meal.

I kept trying to re-assure her everything would be alright.

Then, the homeless druggy came over to our table, put his hand on my back, and thanked me for letting him ahead of us.

My girlfriend bolted to the door, and I tried to escape too – saying it wasn’t a big deal.

He wouldn’t take his arm off my back, despite me trying to get up. He told me he was homeless, and asked me if I had any change.

I told him I didn’t.

He didn’t believe me, said how hard it was to be on the street.

I took out my wallet, and showed him how empty it was – just the usual plastic.

He started pointing to my change compartment of my wallet, saying how that didn’t look empty. And that’s when I just got up, leaving whatever food I hadn’t eaten, and joined my girlfriend who was now almost on the other block outside.

She was shaking like I’ve never seen before. She grabbed hold of me, and pulled me with her, as her flight of fright took her in an almost run anywhere but near that crazy homeless man.

Eventually I managed to calm her down, and we made our way to the theatre and had a great time, sinking into the world of short films, and the engaging discussions.

But I’ll never forget the horrors of the homeless, especially as they scared the hell out of both of us.

And that wasn’t the end of my week of hell.

The next day, I met with a woman, probably in her twenties or early thirties, about a job. She was seeking employment, and we are looking for account managers to handle our advertising sales clients.

Her resume was interesting and read of someone with experience in the marketing world. Her initial attitude and interest caught my eye during our phone interview, and I thought she could apply her background to our advertising sales team.

However, all that changed when I met Seema Doad in person, and she gave me the third degree, challenging my company’s business model.

Hold on a sec . . . Seema, YOU are the one seeking employment from me, and yet YOU are challenging my company’s vision and direction?

Perhaps she was having a bad day and just unleashed her frustrations on the first person in her path?

Being an open, honest, and good-natured person, I attempted to answer her questions, but Seema Doad wouldn’t accept my answers, continuing to argue with me over my corporate vision, our business strategies and although she hadn’t any knowledge of our business plan, she continued to tell me it couldn’t be done.

I don’t want people to kiss my butt – I hate that – but I do expect anyone we hire to believe in our vision, our direction and to especially be respectful of everyone.

Seema, you don't believe in our vision, nor in our direction – and you certainly were not respectful of anyone in our meeting, arguing with the very person who could have offered you a real job.

And that's the kicker, because we always hear how employers force job candidates to do outrageous things to get a job. All I did, as the potential employer, was try to answer your questions, which you tossed back at me, in an angry hostile and very demeaning manner.

Although Seema, you may be in luck, I did see a “Help Wanted” sign in the window of that McDonald’s where the drunken drugged out homeless dude frequents. Just remember if you go off on one of your rants, to ask: “do you want fries with that?”