One of the things I always wanted to do - but never had time for - was to go out on the route and spend quality time with our collectors. I don't mean dropping by a few locations and chewing the fat with the owner, but rather going with the route people and running a day's route with them. Living their life as they do every day in your company.
Behind my desk for the last 16 years, I had a good idea what it was like on the route. After all, from 1978-1980 - a mere 19 years ago - I did actually run a route in the summer months. I wasn't any good at it. Luckily my boss (a.k.a. Dad) gave me a second chance at doing something else. Recently, I found myself in Chicago on a route for the first time in probably 15 years. It reminded me of who the real, unsung heroes truly are in our businesses. Our entire executive level staff at Sugarloaf has been on routes this year and the experience has been invaluable.
After Sugarloaf's weekly Wednesday morning office meeting of route personnel, we hit the road at 8:00 AM. The first thing I learned as was how important the length of the meeting was to the route person. Luckily, today it had been an average meeting - 45 minutes. So, we didn't start the day behind schedule. I had meetings every Wednesday morning in Kansas, and the meeting was over when I was through talking. Now I understand a little of the anxiety I would notice when my meetings were running beyond the one-hour, self-imposed time limit for company meetings.
We jumped into an imported station wagon with high mileage. Every cubic inch of the wagon was filled with parts, light bulbs, plush, cleaner, you name it. I wouldn't say it was exactly comfortable, but at least the A/C was working great. And a good thing too: our first stop was over one hour away! The route man, Charlie, knew by heart where the traffic would back up, and how long it would take. He told me what our arrival time at our first location would be, and an hour later we hit it on the money.
That first stop was a bowling center in the middle of a wheatfield. Charlie was all business; in fact his procedures had all the efficiency of a military operation when he hit that first machine. He counted plush, filled, cleaned everything, and did all of the paperwork with what seemed like one continuous motion. The bowling center was not open for business so there was no one around. The light was really poor. No matter - Charlie knew this and had brought a flashlight. I watched Charlie on his knees, on the dirty tile floor. Getting in and out of different parts of the crane, he twisted his body in ways that could have landed him a job in the next State Fair as the rubber man. He never said a word. It's just his job.
Another 30 minutes to the next stop. You learn a lot about someone when you're in the car with them all day. I was reminded of just how much of this job is windshield time. A little different machine mix was waiting for us at the next stop. No matter, Charlie again had all the right products and tools for the stop.
A family struck up a conversation with us as Charlie was working on the crane. They were fascinated by what he was doing. They were questioning him about products, procedures, and being generally inquisitive about his every move. Of course, they eventually found the courage to ask for free toys, which Charlie quickly and politely told them wouldn't be possible. They asked again. And again. I was getting frustrated and I wasn't even in the conversation. Charlie continued his work without missing a step. When I'm in my office, I'm pretty good about doing one thing at a time. How well I could do my job, if I had a family with young kids asking me about my every move, is questionable.
Our next stop was most impressive. We had a machine out of order that he had been having problems with. It was a new product. I remember from years ago that this is what I hated as a route person. I would have my schedule in my mind, planned to the minute, and then one of these damn machines wouldn't work. Now I've got to fix it. Charlie didn't have that attitude. He worked on it, and although he didn't have all the right tools for the job, ended up leaving the machine functional, cleaned, and checked out.
Our lunch was not glamorous. Charlie had his while driving at 55 miles per hour to the next stop. Not even fast food today; Charlie brought his in a lunchpail. I broke down and walked to a grocery store as Charlie worked at the next stop.
I did notice a few things that were obvious to me, but new to him. It was not an error on his part that he didn't know the video screens needed to be removed so he could clean the fuzzy monitor. It was a breakdown in my training. We spent some time talking about this issue and others. Issues that likely would never have seen the light of day if we hadn't been together for that entire shift.
I learned that, as managers, we tend to get "memo happy." Frequently, the route man is given things to do during his collection visits that weren't on his original schedule. He is expected to spend the extra time to complete whatever task he's given. "Go by that new grocery store and meet the manager" or "Install this new modification on this machine." All of these things take time...time that isn't allotted for in the program. Nevertheless, we all give drivers additional duties and expect them to "work it in." We should try not to take this extra effort for granted.
The route person is an operating company's front-line defense. That is a pretty basic fact of life in the coin machine business. Without this part of the job being done properly, none of the rest of the jobs in your company matter much, from manager to owner. It is clearly a benefit to your company if you spend one day, living his life in your company. You will learn more than you teach, and you'll be amazed (hopefully) at just how key this position is within your company. You may learn that you're not that impressed, which requires a whole different course of action. Did you say you finished at 11AM after starting at 9AM? These things you need to know. Take the time and get out on the street.
Not too long ago, I remember thinking that I was "too busy" to actually get out on the route. Now I know a good manager is never too busy to practice what top executives (from Disney to American Airlines) call "management by walking around." If you want to know what's really going on in your company, you've got to visit the front-line troops once in a while. You will discover that the "reality of the street" adds a very different - and invaluable - perspective to the "rarified atmosphere of the suite." So, get up outta that chair!