Toxic Client. Garrett Sutton
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Office Politics
Another type of deceit occurs in larger corporate settings, where a significant number of people spend an inordinate amount of time defending their turf. This can be problematic for the new professional walking into it, as our next case illustrates.
Case No. 7: The Graphic Designer
The gaming industry is extremely competitive as it is. But with Indian casinos and new mega-resorts cropping up all over the country in places new to gambling, fighting to lure visitors with glitzy expansions and high-powered promotions, the industry can be brutal.
The Thunderdome Hotel & Casino was preparing to open a new tower, and was eager to capture a bigger market share—especially with younger gamblers. Fresh ideas were needed to completely update the resort’s image as a hip and sexy place to play. The Thunderdome’s advertising and marketing department was staffed with longtime employees too stuck in their routines and habits to be truly innovative. They needed some new blood.
Courtney James, the department director, hired freelance graphic designer Marla Welch, a twenty-something woman who had graduated from a top art institute, was up to date on the latest graphics software, and boasted stellar ad pieces in her portfolio. Welch was given a three-month contract and a desk and computer terminal in the ad department, and was told to freshen up the advertising of the casino’s new look.
Welch was excited that the contract with Thunderdome would give her a financial cushion. And she was eager to tackle the project. She was confident of her skills, and through her freelance career she had earned plenty of solid experience branding companies from the ground up—designing logos, creating business cards and other printed pieces, and developing all the aspects of marketing campaigns. Among her roster of former clients were a touring rock band and the NBA’s Development League.
But if there was one thing she wasn’t excited about, it was working out of the marketing office, instead of from home. That, she knew, meant she’d have to deal with attitude from territorial employees. She had experienced that before. With her short orange hair, green eyes, freckles, and an upper-register voice, Welch’s youthful appearance often caused older people to disregard her experience or knowledge and get defensive about having their toes stepped on. This was certainly the case in the Thunderdome’s marketing department.
One of Welch’s first assignments was to supervise a photography shoot of high-end hotel rooms under construction. The photos would show off the luxurious features—plush feather beds, big HD TVs, heated towel racks, wet bars, large spas, and magnificent views. The photos would be used in brochures, magazine ads, billboards, and other signage. Since Welch wasn’t yet familiar with the casino’s layout, the ad department director assigned Pauly Tufts to assist Welch on the shoot.
Pauly was the man with the most seniority in the department. He was a pudgy man in his 50s who wore polyester clothes and a gold chain, and kept his gray hair feathered; his look instantly screamed “out of touch.” Somehow he had managed to carve out a niche at work, handling all the television and radio buys and marquee designs.
Because of his many years at the Thunderdome, Pauly knew his way around the property. That’s why Courtney, the ad department director, decided to give him a support role as facilitator for the photo shoot. He was to be in charge of the master set of keys and let the photography team and models into the rooms, muster up furniture and towels, and provide whatever other logistical support Welch needed.
Harrison Browne, a freelance photographer, was hired for the day-long shoot. Over the phone, Browne, Welch, and Pauly agreed that the shoot would start at 9 a.m. the next day. “Don’t worry about a thing,” Pauly told Welch in a jovial voice after the conference call with Browne. “I’ll get everything you need. Just show up at Room 1051 tomorrow morning.”
When Welch showed up at the room in the new tower the next morning at 8:50 a.m., Browne greeted her cheerily. The two knew each other from a previous freelance session and had worked well together. “We’re just getting started,” Browne said.
Welch was surprised to see that the lighting had already been set up, but she didn’t make much of it. The shoot got underway and looked to be ahead of schedule.
But Pauly kept trying to take over the shoot. He’d step in front of the camera as the photographer was about to click the shutter, and say, “Oh, let’s do this right here.” He’d rearrange pillows on the bed. He’d adjust the window blinds, affecting the lighting. He’d tell the models how to pose, and his suggestions seemed awkward and inappropriate.
Welch and Browne grew increasingly flustered. At one point, Pauly took his comb from his back pocket and brushed a female model’s hair.
“What are you doing?” Welch cried. “You don’t touch the models!”
Browne finally had had enough. He pulled Welch aside. “You’re the art director. You have the vision here. What’s this guy doing?”
“I don’t know what to do,” Welch said. “I’m so frustrated right now.”
“He’s bugging the beans out of me,” Browne said. “You’ve got to help us both out here. You’ve got to stand up and say something, otherwise this shoot is going to run a lot longer to get what we need, and I’m going to have to charge you more.”
Welch immediately took an assertive approach. Whenever Pauly made a change, she immediately stepped in and changed it back. “Actually, the lighting is this, and we need to have them here,” she’d say. “Do you have a problem with this?”
A flash of anger would cross Pauly’s face, but then his expression would shift to innocence. “Oh, no, sweetheart. Everything’s fine. I’m just here if you need me.”
The next morning, Courtney James called Welch into her office and shut the door. The director was furious.
“I can’t believe you showed up an hour late for a photo shoot you were in charge of!” Courtney said.
Welch’s face flushed. Her jaw dropped. “There was an obvious miscommunication,” she stammered.
It turned out there had been a non-communication. Pauly had secretly arranged for Browne to show up at 8 a.m. to start setting up for the shoot. Of course, Pauly had not bothered telling Welch. But he’d made it a point to inform the boss that Welch had been tardy.
Welch realized she’d been duped.
“Before you yell at me, don’t you think you should hear my side of the story?” she asked the director. “If you want to call Harrison, he’ll tell you we agreed the shoot was to start at 9. He’s a friend of mine. We’ve worked together before. He can vouch for me.”
But James would have none of it. “From this point on, you’re on probation,” she said.
Welch’s head spun. She considered resigning. But she decided to stick it out for the remainder of her contract. She couldn’t afford to get a reputation as having failed on a job.
But Pauly kept up his sneaky attacks. He told James that Welch was regularly late to work. Then, after Welch had designed several logos, Pauly reported to Welch that one of them had been approved for use in advertising going forward. But it wasn’t until, in a staff meeting, when James looked curiously at the ad mock-ups Welch had prepared and asked, “What’s this logo? This isn’t approved,” that Welch realized Pauly had fooled her again.
“Well,” Welch responded, “Pauly said this was approved.”
“No, I didn’t,” Pauly said. A smile briefly flitted on his face. He was clearly playing her.
The stress this created for Welch threatened to make her sick. She was having trouble sleeping and her stomach felt upset at the prospect of returning to work each day. In bed at night, she considered quitting before the contract was up, but feared having word spread around town that she was an unreliable graphic artist, and that no one else would hire her. She had to do something, so she made a decision to take charge of the situation.
Knees