The collection agent
A couple of months ago, I was embarrassed beyond words for being the chief villain in the story that follows.
Having had a particularly bad day, I reached home, dog-tired and drained, irritable and unhappy. You see, just that evening, an order I was expecting for my fledgling training business to get finalized fell through. And that too for reasons which had nothing to do with my company’s ability to deliver.
Just when I was getting into a mellow mood and trying to ride over the bitter taste of an order just lost, the front door bell rang. Unhappy at having visitors today, I went to take a look. At the gate was a youngish man, maybe nineteen or twenty years old, with a flipchart in his hand.
“Yes?” That was me, impolite, rude and generally angry at the world.
“Sir, you haven’t paid your last month’s datacard bill. I have come to collect a cheque as it is overdue.”
Fuelled by irritation at these service providers, their collection agents and the knowledge that I had written out the cheque myself well before the due date, I let him have it. He kept protesting meekly that his office records showed that I had not paid up. And I kept blasting him, telling him off in no uncertain terms. I stormed inside and then stormed back and thrust my cheque book at him asking him to see the cheque payment entry I had made in the name of his company 12 days before the due date. When he was left speechless, I shouted at him that I never wanted to see him again at my doorstep because I was, hold on, the most timely repayer of all dues and he could check his company records to verify my claim, thank you very much.
The hapless fellow hung his head, apologized endlessly for the trouble he had caused, mounted his bike and rode off into the evening.
I went to put my cheque book back into my folder and a loose cheque floated out. Yes, you guessed it. It was the very cheque for which I had moments ago made that man’s life miserable. Of course, I had written out the cheque but forgot to drop it in the drop box. Feeling stung at the shame of it all, I stood rooted to the spot, kicking myself mentally for the ass I had made of myself and for treating the man so shabbily.
Putting on my outside clothes and throwing on a jacket, I climbed into my car and dashed off to the service provider’s nearest cheque drop box. When I entered the office, cheque in hand, who do you think I saw standing there, discussing his collection tour for the day with his boss? Yes the very same, battered young man. When he saw the cheque in my hand, he smiled knowingly, but graciously. Till that moment, I never knew shame could burn one so badly. It consumed me completely. Sheepishly, I mumbled my sincerest apologies to him, no holds barred, shook his hand and shuffled out, my ears red and guilty. I vowed that day, never to fire away before checking my bearings first!
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Jones Mathew offers marketing consultancy besides running a soft skills training company Keystone Training Solution. Visit his website at www.keystonetraining.net.
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