Frustration and Cynicism

Starring in today's little discussion as Frustration is my lovely lady, Corrie; while yours truly will be playing the part of Cynicism. Go figure, right?

Part of Corrie's day to day work at the architectural and interior design firm where she works is a thing called plan-check revision. The plans (construction documents) go out to the various city's inspection units, get checked, and then are sent back marked with what revisions need to be done. One of her jobs is to go over the revisions and coordinate their getting fixed.

On one job recently the "revision" was actually them asking for missing data; the inspector wanted the flame-spread rating. Material from Europe that was generally meant for flooring had been used on walls and ceilings, and by affixing it there using adhesives, the property of the material no longer matched the slim data they take in Italy.

Following? Corrie needed a spec number, a snippet of information, about how fast this particular material, if on fire, would spread up a wall and across a ceiling. She called the sales representative they have on file for technical information, the tech rep.

She asked for the flame-spread rating. The rep, sounding confused, said he didn't know what the assembly rating is, but that he can get that information if she wanted it. No, Corrie said, I don't need the partition assembly rating, I need the flame-spread. Well, the rep reiterated, the assembly rating will be available in due time.

If you've ever dealt with this kind of sad American--the sales rep in over their head--then you know that they can be more of a pain in the ass than, well, actual pains in the ass. Here's Corrie in the role of frustration. 

"Assembly ratings" deal with wall or door assemblies, combinations of wood, plaster, steel, sheetrock, paint, that kind of stuff, material used to make the partitions--the walls--separating different spaces. Fire ratings for assemblies deal with how long it takes fire to burn through the door. Those shitty wooden closet doors in cheap housing? Likely a small rating, as in fire would overtake it quick. The steel and glass door in the back of  dormitories? Likely a big rating, as in plenty of time warding off an encroaching fire.

This, though, was not the information she wanted. She wanted flame-spread, how long it would take the fire to move about the walls once lit, not how long it would take fire to burst through the closed door and wall. But this sales rep, when the words "fire" and "rating" were used in a sentence, his brain went right to the only thing he associated with them. This is what sales-reps-in-over-their-heads do: they repeat the same tired wrong info because they don't know any better.

When Corrie, embodiment of frustration, relayed this anecdote to me, this tiny facet of her day, I asked if she had talked to the regular rep or the tech rep. She said that it was the only guy they have on file for technical questions. She said she left a message explaining that the information is pretty standard in America, and that the Italian company would be better off disseminating it; that it could be easier for her firm in the future to just spec a different product from a different company. How could this jerk-ass be the one tech rep for this company, she asked me.

Taking the role of the cynic, a smart-alec grin came over my lips and I said, well, of course since he worked as a sales associate at Best Buy, he must have embellished his resume to get the cushy tech-rep job. Yup, lied to get ahead, and now he makes other people's lives more complicated by way of ineptitude, either direct or accidental.

I guess that makes me the asshole. I mean, here's Corrie, doing a good job working on frustrating scenarios, dealing with this kind of thing on a daily basis for years, and all I do is make jokes about the guy making her day shitty. It's easy to do that, to be negative.

I guess after hearing the same daily complications for long enough, and giving all the support there is, and after a lifetime of meeting and getting to know sales reps personally, I've come to recognize certain patterns in the behaviors of those that, from secondary sources, you can tell are in way over their head. That being said, that's the kind of thing that breeds cynicism in guys like me. The continued success of these types, you know the ones I mean, leave types like me with little sympathy for them when they flail.

But it sucks when they make my wife's day shitty, that's for damn sure.