The Compliant Client

(I’m sitting up at the front desk early one morning before most of the sales representatives are in the office. At about 8:15, a woman comes in.)

Me: “Good morning. Can I help you?”

Woman: “Hi. I’m here to see [Representative].”

(I pause for a moment because I know he has not come in yet and the representative in question usually doesn’t get in until around 10:00 am.)

Woman: “Do you know who that is?”

Me: “Uh… yes. [Representative] works in this office. I’m just not sure that he’s in yet. Would you mind if I go check?”

(Sure enough, he’s not in.)

Me: “[Representative] is not here yet. Is your meeting set for 8:30?”

Woman: “Yes, I’m a bit early.”

Me: “That’s fine. I’ve got some work to do here but you can wait in these chairs until he gets in.”

Woman: “Okay. Where am I?”

(She’s really not that old — maybe 35 or 40 — so there’s no chance that she’s got dementia. I’m a little taken aback and not quite sure to respond.)

Me: “You’re at [Company].”

Woman: “Okay. So, is that all that’s here?”

Me: “We’re the only business in this suite in the building, if that’s what you mean. But there are several other businesses in the building, as well as residences on the top floors.”

Woman: “Hmm. So, you sell what here? Insurance stuff?”

Me: “[Company] offers insurance and investments, yes.”

(I seem to have satisfied any questions she has. She gets up and starts poking around the reception area. It’s a small room with two hallways leading off of it, a large desk where I’m sitting, two plush chairs, a coffee table with some flyers on it, and a fake ficus plant by the door. Next to the door, there’s a floor-to-ceiling window so that you can see into the office and out into the hall which has several other offices in it. One of these offices is unmarked and not listed on the building because it’s a government agency. She practically trips over the coffee table getting out of one of the chairs and moves to peer through the window into the hall. But she doesn’t simply look through the window. She crouches behind the ficus and looks out the window towards the unmarked office with its key-card entry. The way that she’s bent, she is blocking the door completely while contorting herself around the fake tree. She looks comical, like someone spying in a cartoon. She turns and looks at me, still crouched.)

Woman: “What is in that office?!” 

(Just as I opened my mouth to tell her, the representative she was there to see swung the door open and they looked at each other in shock. She went back to his office with him at that point, thank goodness. I’m just glad another client didn’t show up.)