Back in the 1990s, I was running a company called American Computer Experience. The company was still small in 97 or 98, as we were still operating in a small duplex, actually half of a duplex, on Greenwood Avenue behind Surin restaurant in Virginia Highlands. We probably had 10 to 12 employees working in just under 1100 ft.² of space. My office was upstairs and in a loft that barely qualified as crawlspace. We were large enough at this point that we needed a full-time receptionist and telephone operator, and somehow we ended up with the nice young lady named Caroline. I don’t know where we got her, I can’t remember what her face looked like, and I have no idea what happened to her. But I do know that she cost me $300,000 in a 5 minute telephone call.

At this point, our daily routine was to arrive at work by 10 AM, at which time we all watched The Price Is Right and talked about where we would eat lunch that day. From 11 to 11:30 some work would usually happen, but around 11:30, we would get hungry and need to eat. Soon, someone would suggest El Azteca on Ponce, the one that killed someone with food poisoning  right around this time. Almost every day, we would find ourselves eating Mexican food. We would get home by one and swear that we were never eating at El Azteca again. On this fortuitous day, Caroline was left alone to answer the telephone. As luck would have it, this was the time that our credit card processing company called to ask some questions.

This business consisted of marketing and enrolling summer campers for nine months of the year and providing summer camps for kids for three months of the year. When a parent enrolled, we immediately charged their credit card for the full amount, which could be as much as seven or $8000. When parents enrolled their children the old-fashioned way with a form, they would include a $100 deposit and we would have to build them later. However, the credit card gave us the advantage of being able to hit them for the full amount immediately, and they never complained because they could pay it off however they chose to. The great part was that we collected interest on five or $6 million for as much as nine months.

I’ll never know what Caroline actually said to the credit card processor but when I got home from El Azteca, she suggested that I return the call. When I did, they inform me that Caroline had explained our policy to them, but that she had added she was not sure if this is the way it was working. They asked point blank if it was and I of course had no choice but to tell the truth. From then on they allowed us only to charge $100 per week deposit in advance and then to collect the final payment 1 June. That year our profit margin would have been almost equal to the amount we made from credit card interest, so I immediately recognized that my take-home pay was now seriously in jeopardy. I snapped and yelled at Caroline, “You cost me my salary, you are taking the food out of my babies’ mouth.” She burst into tears, ran out of the office, disappeared, and never came to collect her final check.

I don’t know if I’m right, but to this day, I believe that had I been on the phone from the beginning that I would have been able to the deflect the conversation, to figure out what was coming, and then have been able to position it better. I may be wrong, but I think the fact that I did not answer the phone cost me $300,000. The most important thing is that Caroline should not have been on the telephone answering questions with Visa in the first place. She should have been directing that call to the person who knew how to handle it. The fault was mine sense I had not told her to NOT be helpful on the telephone, and to only answer the questions to which she was party, which was basically nothing.

Leading me to another Caroline clause: instruct your employees to only answer questions that they are personally responsible and liable for. If they are not in charge of that part of the project, pass the telephone to the person that is or take a message.

Caroline, if you are reading this I would like to apologize for yelling at you. But your check was long-lost, sorry.