Day 14 NaBloWriMo Loan Shark

Another suggestion for a blog topic from FB: How did you get into the work that you do?

Well, that will take some going back in time. I feel a long, meandering post coming.... grab something to drink first and then continue.

My story of becoming a Loan Shark:

It all started when I was 8 years old. Yes, truly, it did. Just hear me out.

Mom and Dad bought a piano. Neither knew how to play, but they wanted for their children what they did not have in their childhood. Both my brother and I learned how to play, me starting at the age of 8 and Rob at the age of 10. We had to practice 30 minutes a day. Mom used to put a timer on top of the piano until she realized that we would push the timer to have fewer minutes. That's when Mom took the timer into her room. I never realized Mom pushed the timer to have more minutes. Often once I started playing and couldn't see the minutes, I'd play for hours. (Did I mention I could drive my brother crazy if I played certain songs over and over again?)


When I was 10 my brother came up to me and said, "Aleta, let me show you something." Trusting sister that I am... I walked into his room and he showed me a typewriter. (Anybody remember what those looked like? Yes, I know I'm showing my age.)


My brother taught me how to type the middle line of letters without looking at the keys. He had me memorize the line and then he called out the letters. Fancy that, I was good at it. (See the piano come into play here - dexterity.)

Dad found out that I could type. He said, "Aleta, come here. Let me show you what a credit bureau machine is." Ahhhh, for my fellow financial folks, you might remember the dinosaurs of old ~ where you had to type in the last name then the "/" after each part section, name, address, etc.


Dad worked in the sales industry for the longest of times, financing such things as furniture and air conditioners, etc. This meant that when the stores were open, he had to be available to give answers, thus he worked at home after hours until 9pm and on Saturday and Sunday. Perfect time to teach his daughter to pull a credit bureau while he made decisions on applications and faxed back the answers to the sales companies.


Honestly, I didn't have a clue as to what I was pulling, it was just inputting information and waiting for this yucky filmy paper to print and hand it over to Dad, attached to the faxed application. I didn't mind it. I was happy to type and I was doing something with Dad - yeah!

I remember this time when a lady from a credit bureau agency came to the house. She wanted Dad to switch the credit bureaus he was pulling to her company and she was willing to furnish him with the newest of machines. She had me typing on one machine (the old one) and she typed on the new one. She was going to show Dad that the newer one was easier and faster. When we finished, she looked at me, quiet for a moment and said, "If you ever need a job, apply with us." (For the record, the fastest I was clocked typing was 150 words per minute. She had no way of knowing what she was up against!)

(Bad thing about typing fast is that you can send a zinger of a reply and hit send - sort of like shooting off at the mouth without the brain being loaded- not a good thing.)


Towards the end of high school, I told my parents that I wanted to find a different job. (At that time I was working in the office, leaving office politics and such..) When I went into Dad's office, people smoked. Heavily smoked. I couldn't stand it in there (thankfully, years later, Dad quit smoking and made it into a non-smoking office).

I did go on a job interview. It was for a phone solicitation company. NO, not THAT kind of solicitation! It was to sell stuff like insurance on your credit cards. I went into the interview, filled out the form and then read the form carefully. Before signing anything I asked if the job was commission and was told that it was. I politely said I wasn't interested. The man said, "That's a shame, because you have a great voice for this."

(That comment reminds me of something Danny told Greg. One night when Greg and I were first dating, Greg went on a guy's night out with Danny. I never met Danny before. When I called Greg, he put me on the phone with Danny. After saying hello and whatnots, Danny later told Greg, "Aleta has a sweet voice. She could do phone sex!" Ok, that's an interesting compliment!)


When Dad found out that I went interviewing and was serious about looking for something different he said, "Aleta, if you want a change, I'll put you in the field."


Yes, I worked in the field. Not crops and veggies or such. Field employees went to the stores where we did financing. These were our larger stores and it gave the various branch stores a "home base" to send their customers to sign the contract. I learned how to fill out a contract and where the customer had to sign, etc. It was hard work. Office politics and gossip can't compare to customers right up in your face, wanting to know why they were turned down or why they can't get approved for more money or why their monthly payment was too high.


For a long time I worked as a field employee. It took me through the majority of my college years. Most of the memories are pleasant. I'll share one that was weird, not about a customer, but about a salesman. This salesman always had a different tie on each day. Everyone liked his ties and gave him compliments. He was very proud of his ties. One day he had on a particular tie and I thought it was nice and said so. He shocked me with his response, "I'll take my tie off if you take your shirt off!" He laughed and walked away. I was stunned. Another coworker heard as well and said, "I can't believe he said that."


I did what I normally wouldn't do... I called Dad. The salesman was soon transferred to another location. (This I will say though, I'm glad I had coworkers to hear it, because Dad wanted to make sure I didn't imagine the comment or implications.) I'm also glad Dad acted quickly; it wasn't long after that I was taking law classes (General Law, Business Law and Personnel Law), where you might imagine sexual harassment was a hot topic.


The reason I was moved back into the main office was because the store ended up closing down about a year after the tie issue. I was moved from station to station inside the main office. Dad put me into the cashier position. I'd learn it so well that I was training other cashiers. Then, he'd move me into collections. I'd learn and start training employees in collection. Then he'd move me into loan approving, loan closing, attorney accounts, etc. You name it, I could do it. Each time I was moved, I felt as though, "Hey, I'm good at this. I feel comfortable with it. WHY are you moving me?" Some resentment, but I never said anything. I went where I figured Dad needed me in the office. I was thankful for the job.


There were other employees who were there just as long as I was and just about equally trained. Dad once asked me, "Do you know why I groomed you into management?" I waited for his answer, "Because you are the only employee who will tell me when I'm wrong. Everyone else will agree with me, but you'll fight me." Then he gave me that, "not always good when you argue with me" look, because I know I'm just as stubborn as Dad. Apple didn't fall far from the tree.


And there you go ~ my story of becoming a loan shark. The reason I say loan shark is because a friend's Mom had an account with us and used to call my Dad, "Lester the Loan Shark." I know, not nearly as exciting as you thought it would be. Lol.