It's been a while

It’s been a while. So… a lightening catch-up before you’ve had time to eat and digest any food vended to you in weak moment by Burger King:

• AAAAAAAAAAAAAAArgh. This is management speak for ‘busy’.
• New people include a French accountant who, we’ve just realized, hardly speaks Dutch or English (and as I speak no French, I’m left wondering if he speaks French).
• Other new people include a consultant for Amsterdam who appears to have flown to a flying start and a second consultant for The Hague operation. This will help manage the client pressure there but, alas, will not help George spell better.
• Reshuffle in Amsterdam sees the role of Commercial Assistant launched. Great things are expected of this role but we’ve not really defined it in detail yet so it could all go horribly wrong.
• Sparrow has been warned for lack of output. Now, amazingly, he is the top scorer in June. When asked to what does he attribute his change in fortunes he really has no idea. Still unclear if we can really build on this guy.
• Frank is keenly watching costs which is nice as for five years we’ve not had the tools to do this. Bit irritating that his suggestions regarding process efficiency are either “(s)he should work faster or longer; or (s)he should let someone else do that stuff.”

They come and they go

One of the property managers just quit. Not Eddie - the other one. Just had it "up to hear." At least, that's what his eyes said. His mouth said something like "I've had a great time, learnt a lot, personally developed and (deep in my heart) it's really tough to leave this paradise all behind."

Frank must learn the ancient art of disguise and, if not full on disguise, at least the noble, if not ancient, art of pretending. In this case, Frank should have pretended to be heart-broken about the loss of the property manager (not Eddie) – at least to the property manager concerned in person to his face and so on. That fact, though, is that Frank and I have been wrestling for weeks with how to get rid of this guy (not Eddie) without having to pay him a large pot of gold as stipulated in Dutch employment law. Frank’s heart soared with the announcement and he appeared unusually upbeat throughout most of the afternoon before retreating into his morose seriousness indicating that his post-vacation glow was gone (and within the day and after a two week Spanish rest).

Interviews for consultants and someone for the financial assistant role continued today and will continue to continue for the rest of the week. Not a bad consultant interview this afternoon until that is I asked her to ‘sell me’ on a property. After twenty minutes she had detailed ad nausea the proximity to the highway, trams and the quiet evenings during which birds could often be heard. Under pressure, she conceded that the entrance hall had been retiled and that light was well reflected from the new and white ceramic – still no actual mention of the apartment. Despite not remembering to remember to talk about our core offering, she made a good impression which demonstrates that we really need to interview better candidates.

As for the financial role, the first candidate was a disaster as he prefers to work alone, with minimal supervision and not to interact with colleagues. The other one seemed a great personal fit although his experience in financial administration was limited. Actually, that’s just not fair. He had zero experience.

Out of control

May is out of control. More deals than ever, more turnover than ever. It goes without saying that we've more costs than ever and, naturally, May is the month when the entire crew (with exception of the shareholders) get an additional month's vacation pay. The most prudent way to handle a surge in sales is to ignore it knowing, with certainty, that a catostrophic month (or months) lie smirking around the corner and, in the end, it will all average out following to the letter the immutable law of averaging. I wish I'd kept this in mind before ordering that custom TVR.

Next week is full of interviews. New consults and additional financial support person. Quality of applications has been mixed ranging from good to shambolic. At the shambolic end for example, one candidate had listed the following in the qualifications section:

Prepared and gave a speech to 200 people at the funeral of my brother-in-law.

Quitting time

One of the things you need to do as Sales Manager is talk people out of quitting (or into quitting if they are truly awful and getting them to jump of their own accord is far cheaper than incurring the wrath of the bias laws protecting the weak, faint-hearted and lazy in the workplace). Anyway, Klaas traveled to The Hague today to talk George out of quitting. Not that she's the best consultant since the word consult was first coined the 1940s or anything - it's just that there is no one else working in the office there. It's a big credibility ask when a client turns up unannounced, finds no one from Ideal Housing, has to make his own coffee, arrange his own viewing conduct his own negotiation and check-in. Naturally, should this ever happen, a commission discount would be reasonable. George lists her grievances:

• I cannot print
• Most of the time, should printing seem to work, the print comes out on one of the printers in Amsterdam.
• I have not been paid any expenses.
• I have not been paid a penny of commission.
• My emails to head office are ignored.
• The finance guy speaks funny and I cannot understand a word his says.
• People want to know where I am (IF I AM OUT, LIVE WITH IT!)
• My rusty heap of a car is not representative.
• Access to the database is intermittent.
• Outbound calling is sporadic.

The outcome of the meeting is that I have to speak with her. I'm unclear if she's on the team or not. I'll call tonight.

On the theme of personnel

On the theme of personnel, I have the following to report with some trepidation:

• The MT is looking to push through a revised commission schedule that may seem, if one were skeptical, that the consultants might earn less.
• We’ve invented a new role – commercial assistant – with the goal of giving the consulting team more time on the street with their rental clients meaning (am I sounding unrealistically optimistic?) that more turnover will be generated.
• We’ve taken on a work experience student in the office in Den Hague. Never met the guy but we’ve spoken on the phone – not sure which language is his first language but it ain’t one that I speak.
• Timmy is looking increasingly like a moose in the headlights. Causes for concern include staring for prolonged periods at blank screens, not doing any deals, and wearing a cheap, synthetic, luminous orange sweater.
• Hamid’s chronic illness problems have taken a wicked wend for the worse. Worse, Marcus stumbled across the fact that our break-even financial performance for the first quarter seems to have excluded a number of costs that should have been booked in the accounting system but were missed. Hamid is undergoing pain reduction treatment at a medical facility of choice paid by his insurance company because… well, that’s how it works over here. Treatment having no noticeable effect thus far, aside from the his increasing number of sick days.
• Interview for additional consultants continue. Nothing really sparkley as yet. Three more candidates next week.

Up and to the right

Unsure ground. We’re having an excellent month despite the loss of Ginny, our super saleswoman. Theories abound:

1. Luck: May may be fine. Thereafter, it will inevitably not be fine.
2. Redistribution: Everyone is getting a bit of what would normally have been grabbed by Ginny.
3. Increased confidence: A couple of good deals with clients that would otherwise have gone Ginnywards raises ones confidence and creates a smiley, optimistic, effervescence that washes over clients and makes them disposed to sign.
4. Economy: It’s on the up so every agency is doing more business.
5. Luck.: More luck around and it will run out.
   

A couple of months of post-Ginny stats are required to do anything more than ponder. I will report ad hocly with musings and evidence on this topic.

Treacle

The purchase of my new apartment is crawling thicker than treacle. There are seven mortgage applications running of which one – the one I presented to the bank myself instead of using a mortgage broker in the naïve hope that I’d not only avoid paying a brokerage 1% fee but would earn it myself – was rejected by a man with a deep voice.

The deep voice explained that for reasons that seemed to have very little to do with my case, my application to borrow a mountain of cash was rejected by the credit committee. When I asked for clarification, he patiently ran through the rationale but I began to wonder, part way through his tale of rejection, if we were both talking about the same property and mortgage application.

“I assure you, Mrs. Jansen, that I know what I’m talking about.”

Maybe – but not who you are talking to.

Being baffled

Frank is away for two weeks. Two weeks of doing nearly nothing on a Spanish island. Unlike me when on vacation, Frank is able to completely suppress the urge to check work email or to wonder if all is running smoothly. I, on the other hand, check email several times a day when on holiday and, if there's nothing to wonder about, call the office just in case.

During Frank's absence I am left with the dubious task of keeping an eye on areas of the business that he normally runs in detail. In particular, property management will receive my ad hoc care and attention following the school of management that advises totally freedom of action until the slightest thing goes the little bittiest bit wrong and then coming down on the perpetrator like a lump of iron.

Frank has been away for a whole day - no incident worthy of note thus far. Having said that, Marijke is still having rental clients and owners sign contracts that have never been checked, and arranging check-ins where no monies have been received. I look at her, baffled (me not her) and she looks baffled back. I love that word - baffled.

It is even possible to explain more simply that we simply cannot pay lawyers four thousand Euros per month to settle claims based on inaccurate contracts? She looks baffled.

Way to much coffee drunk today. Must take it easy tomorrow.

Ginny is really gone

Ginny’s farewell drink was last night. It started orderly enough downstairs in a grotto - a throwback-bar that somehow beamed itself from 1977 to 2007. By the time I arrived at seven o’clock, the entire team were tanked and rolling. As the music volume increased, so did the difficulty of hearing the various speeches lauding Ginny while, in a parallel and brutally truthful way, pointing out that she was a one-off and “none of you other consultant losers will ever come close”.

A man dressed in black asked us to leave. We did, only to find ourselves in upstairs cocktail bar of the same establishment. The difference between downstairs and upstairs being the increased music volume, the availability of high-price and poor quality cocktails, and four tubby balding blokes dressed in white suits. Purple and pink lighting fuelled the expectation that a porn shoot was about to get underway.

Four hours and five hundred Euros worth of liquid later, I close the tab, settle up and the party is over (at least the party on company expense). Realising this, the entire crew make their collective way to a cheaper bar on the Noordemarkt.

Something horribly wrong happens with Brenda’s ability to steer and she and her bicycle clatter into a parked VW station wagon. I bail and make my way home.

Have you seen her?

We try our level best not to be slovenly, to look at detail, and treat our clients with care and consideration. Contrast this to the email received yesterday from one of our serviced apartments competitors:

• Dear Ideal Housing - last week one of our guests, a 95 year old wheelchair bound invalid from Omaha named Mrs. Ziegler, rolled herself out of one of our apartments and disappeared along with her 85 year old carer. The family is concerned for Mrs. Zielger's safety (nice, after a week's abscence) and remain concerned that she may not have gone of her own accord (they don't know where her will is). She is under medication (easier to influence) and her jewelry has also gone missing (read: the old biddy is a gold mine and is on the run). If you see her, please give us a call.

Jimmy is keeping his eyes peeled as his suspects that there is a considerable reward.

Kepeing my finger on the pulse

Away on vacation for a week in England. Tension is building. Not tension in that the vacation is too short or tension in that the weather is not just tippity-top, but more tension relating to not taking a peek at my work email when I know I can. Finally, I denial myself the denial of not logging in a taking a peek. As I trawl through the mail headers and read the details, I quickly conclude that the stream of trivia left behind on my departure, continues unabated in my absence. Mails about checking out keys properly, parking fines (the game is to fervently deny you were the offender and then meekly concede on the production of the police photo showing you driving at 140 KMH, naked, in a built up area), the whoever-has-finished-my-milk rant, and so it flows ever on. I swear we will bring the Internet to its knees with the weight of nothingness. Once more, I feel connected.

Off to pub tonight for warm beer.

The cost of it all

We are reviewing our cost structure. Surprisingly, early indications are that are costs are *not* too low. That's right. On the other hand, we've no definitive information to hand as our bookkeeper still needs to get all the numbers bashed into the accounting package from which financial reports are generated.

Frank is impatient. He demands - strong lanaugage indeed - that Hamid produce a profit-and-loss statement on the spot based on the data that has in fact been entered. Hamid diplomatically points out that such a report is totally without value until all the relevant data has been entered. Frank pulls rank, "I want it on my desk in five minutes."

Seven minutes later, Frank and I are alone in the conference room. Frank is greatly irked by the report that says we lost Euro 56K in February alone. "Maybe," I point out, "it's because all the costs have been entered into the accounting system but not all the revenues."

Frank won't be fooled with such remarks that are clearly intended to throw him off track. He leaves to investigate how we formally need to file for bankruptcy.

The day in brief

• Got up earlier than everyone else to buy muffins for weekly breakfast meeting.
• Muffins consumed in silence. No thanks. Crumbs left on floor.
• Last minute deal-sheets appear on my desk in the scramble to get commission this month (and not let it slide into next month).
• Strong talk with Jimmy as he revenue numbers suck loudly, he's been on holiday, he's sick on his return, he requested more holiday.
• Askance looks at bookkeeper.
• Bookkeeper looks askance back.
• Meet with Chuck to discuss real-estate brokerage arm of business.
• Chuck feels like he's being gypped.
• Reviews numbers. Feels less like he's being gypped (but cannot admit it).
• Marcus is editing a picture of bathroom - trying to remove the mold.
• More salary admin.
• Pay taxes to tax guys.
• More salary admin.
• Read 23 page purchase document in Dutch for property I want to buy (11.00 at night now).
• Crash.

Ants

The Dutch have this great term ‘miereneuker’ that is used to describe someone who unreasonably focuses on irrelevant details. The term is English is approximated to ‘a person who likes to have sexual relations with an ant.’

In my day-to-day muddling in everyone’s business at Ideal Housing – the prerogative of the Managing Partner –, I’m abstracted out of the hue-and-cry of negotiating prices, extra beds, the removal of lamps and the painting of scuffed walls and, in general, escape having to kowtow to mireneukers that are, in fact, our rental clients.

Yesterday evening something surprising and depressing occurred. My offer was accepted on the purchase of a monster apartment on a canal in the Jordaan. From that instant – the nanosecond between being a contender and winning the bid – I found myself transformed form a well-balanced, easy going and pleasant individual into a person who likes to have sexual relations with an ant. I’ve already called the seller fifty times asking if this or that is included, was that scratch on the wall when I last viewed the place, the gate seems creaky, the intercom crackles, there’s a leaf on the roof, it looks like rain and the temperature has dropped from warm to chilly.

The owner has this tone that yells ‘ant boy!’

I have a new understand that verges on sympathy for these insect-loving clients and have promised not to swear at them (at least not when they are within earshot).

Igenious, these scam people

The scan runs something like this:

• We get a booking from an 'intermediary' on behalf of their client.
• The 'intermediary' pays with the client's credit card information.
• The funds clear on our account for a three week stay in one of our apartments.
• At the last minute, the 'intermediary' contacts us saying his client has cancelled.
• We are requested to refund the payment not back to the credit card but to another bank account.
• The client never shows.

Concentrating hard

I worked at home today (management speak for 'skived off') in the hope that I could concentrate on my spreadsheet and remain out of sight and out of mind of the consultants that their inane claims on my time.

My hope was still born. As I was nowhere to be seen, their inane remarks and questions couldn't possibly wait, resulting in a series of calls to my cell phone.

Brenda: "Can I edit the contracts myself?"

Marijke:"Really? What? You mean someone has to
check the contracts and invoices before the get signed and money
paid?

Jimmy:"Am I disturbing...

Yes, very.

Jimmy: "... only I was wondering about my free days carried over from last
year."

Naturally, none of this can wait until I am back in the office.

The news in brief

One of our owners has rented his apartment to two female prostitutes from Thailand and has asked for an appendix to the rental agreement in which states that no ‘personal activities’ (aka brothel) may take place in his apartment. Right – like that’s really gonna ensure this won’t happen. “Come on… come back to my place. Oh no – I’ve just re-read the rental agreement and you’re not allowed to.”

One of our rental clients has attempted suicide by jumping from a third-floor balcony. The first we heard of this was when the owner called making a poor show of concern for the health of said individual, followed by a poor show of feigning disinterest in the probability of threat to his rental income stream.

Another of our rental clients – actually a large party – has tried to sneak in an extra 10 people into a group of apartments for which there is a price agreement on a per-person, per-night basis. The ‘sneak’ factor was weak (verging on pathetic) resulting in us spotting this feeble attempt at deception within five minutes. The upshot is that we can invoice for another Euro 14.500. Not a bad return for ‘seeing something obvious’.

This is the end of the news in brief.

Big bag of money

It gives me no pleasure at all to be right. In fact, there’s a certain pressure that is created from being the source of all human correctness. Sometimes I deliberately make mistakes so that others see I’m ‘just like them.’ For example, this morning I intentionally mis-added some large numbers that were to appear on an invoice in the certain knowledge that one of our better consultants would spot the mistake and pull me up on it. Instead, he immediately approved the calculation (that’s my job by the way), instructed finance to create the invoice (that’s my job by the way), asked the other managing partner – Frank – to give the payment a ‘go’ (also my job) in doing so insisted that all was just fine because I had added up the original figures. The client, on receiving an invoice for way too much calls us – fuming – like we’re total morons and all fingers point at me.

That the official last time that I play dumb. That’s right – official.

The circus guys are checking in tonight. That was the planning, at least. There is the minor issue however of them not having paid a penny of sixty-five thousand Euro. A big ol’ bag of loot. No problem, says the head circus guy (I have an image of him dressed as a clown) – we’ll bring the entire payment in cash. Hamid – our finance guy – has the challenging double task of counting the notes and not keeping any of them.

A great week...

... tired. Too many deals...sleeply.... sl...

Investors and impressions

The investors were back in this morning. I want to make an impression and it began with “Can I get anyone some coffee?” – I sound like Charlotte but the idea is to demonstrate that I’m a human being too. “Coffee” they parrot in unison like they’ve been practicing.

An impression was made but not the one intended. On opening the kitchen door that adjoins the conference room where the investors were all seated, I stumble over Brenda’s stout legs. The rest of her is slumped, out cold atop the counter. Drowsily, she raises her head – it’s swollen, it's beaten, it's got the pattern of her sweat-shirt sleeve embossed in her right cheek. A piece of croissant clings doggedly to her hair.

Klaas is livid and sends her home. It’s not that he has a problem with anyone pissing away an evening but it should have zero (ZERO) effect on performance the following day. In the States – apparently – this is a fireable offence.

"Didn’t you notice? You must have!" His palms are raised heavenwards.
"Er… Klaas… investors. Duh!" I stomp off for a detailed review of my junk mail.

Brenda manages a brief and unconvincing apology before taking herself off for the day. Sadly, she still tops the turnover league for April thus far.