After feeling like a real jinx at the ending of Hook’s Drugstore which had been around for 95 years, I started looking for a new job. At least this time, I had computer skills. Peggy, one of my bosses at Hook’s heard they were looking for a graphic artist at H.H. Gregg. I applied and got the job. The home office was up on 96th Street off Keystone — a long commute around I-456 north past Castleton. The traffic always came to a near standstill right at Allisonville like a clogged drain and then finally would smooth out. Also, they were working on 96th and the bridge to connect it to Castleton, so the cement trucks were on your tail at 80 miles an hour. I hated the commute and going down Keystone through town was so long, due to all the stop lights. The office was pleasant with two other ladies who had been there awhile. Doug at Hooks, who had taught me the computer, sent a joke front page of a fake newspaper with me causing the end of H.H. Gregg. He mailed it to Ken Beckley (who did all their TV commercials) and was vice-president and he thought it was a hoot.
H.H. Gregg was a family-owned regional chain. Our little advertising department did tabloids and newspaper ads for all their stores in a dozen towns. I did mostly the newspaper ads on the computer to start. I got to use a stat camera to reproduce the ads to ship out a hard copy to all the newspapers in the other towns. Later we stopped doing the newspaper ads and then I helped with the tabloids. Our supervisor laid out the pages on layout paper in pencil and the three of us girls put the tabloids together on the computer. The supervisor had no computer skills, having done the advertising the same way for years and he didn’t want to learn. I could have done all the work by myself easily. They even hired a fourth graphic artist to help do a few digital photos we needed for the tabs. Needless to say, there just wasn’t enough work to go around and while the other ladies didn’t seem to mind having all the extra time to cut out coupons and surf the Web, it drove me crazy. I like to keep busy and without enough work, the day drags. The other ladies were super sweet people and I ended up knowing more about them than I did my own family.
You know how usually you see too many bosses at the top of a corporation — well this company didn’t really have quite enough. One of the family owners was the TV buyer and she was gone on so many vacations and ski trips, it was hard to get information from her. I’d ask what models of TVs she wanted to promote and she’d say whatever we did last month. She didn’t seem to know what the inventory was and our stores I’m sure would be frustrated when we advertised one they were sold out of and had to substitute something else.
The company had a good discount program for their employees, so I bought everything I could while I worked there. They even had a showroom of kitchen cabinets and when they liquidated that department, I got my entire kitchen redone for a fraction of the original cost. However, other benefits, like sick days were non-existent and raises were very tiny. The family owners shared the profits.
The family that owned H.H. Gregg’s was so wealthy that the President’s father had a race horse delivered to the front door of the building when it was his son’s birthday. One of the family owners was pregnant with twins and we had a big baby shower for her. Knowing that she did all of her spring shopping in Paris, I don’t think those twins ever wore any of the Wal-mart sleepers we gave her at the shower. It was like peasants gifting the queen.
I will say that their sales staff got extensive training because our office was right next to the training room and we heard a lot of the program. The company President was also the national President of white goods (you know, stoves and refrigerators) so they got the best prices.
A year later, I started looking for a better paying job with more work. I applied at Kittles, thinking that a furniture discount would be nice. I ended up finding a position at Marsh grocery in their advertising department. They had a gorgeous building up off I-69 and there was an atrium with a waterfall in the middle of the building — it looked like a 5-star hotel. The advertising department was in the lower level and all divided up into cubicles. The boss was very nice, but I noticed when I interviewed, he smoked continuously (4 packer). The building had one of those no-smoking signs on the front door, so I wasn’t sure about the policy (it was 1994). Well, within the first day on the job I realized 9 out of the 12 people in the department smoked. The policy was smoking in closed offices only. Well, our advertising department was wide open and the conference room had the biggest overflowing ash tray I’ve ever seen. The boss was out sick (bronchitis) the entire first week so I went to human resources to find out what could be done, because I couldn’t stand it. Unfortunately, advertising was where everyone in the building came to get a quick puff without going outside. Nothing could be done — I even tried to get the three employees who didn’t smoke to protest. I’ll never forget going into the only weekly meeting I ever attended and no one smoked and all of them starring at me like I was a leper. I gave notice immediately and they asked me to stay at least 2 weeks until they filled my position. Luckily, H.H. Gregg had not replaced me and I got my old job back and I didn’t even have to give back the going away presents. I stayed another year, while two of the other ladies were on maternity leave. At least I had a little more work.
I’ve never been so bored with a job in my life. My only decision for the weekly tabloids was what photo was I going to put in the TV screens!
We had to punch a time clock and I had a real problem getting my son to grade school not too early or the doors were locked and then fighting the traffic on I-465. If I was 5 minutes late the boss would have a talk with me and I remember asking one time, well I’m here now do you have anything for me to do? Of course, he didn’t. I worked out the time by being scheduled at 8:15 and working until 5:15. Don’t get me wrong our boss was the nicest guy, he was just afraid someday we’d all be gone at the same time and he had no idea how to put the ads together on a computer.
For the boss’ big birthday that year we called his wife and ask what we could get him. She said a push broom for his workshop at home. He did a lot of woodworking and made us all the cutest little wooden buggy seats for Christmas. Mine is still on my porch (29 years old). Well us girls got him a push broom, but decorated it with a balloon head and boobs. We put a wig on her too — he loved it!
I remember late in the summer I got a call from my old boss and Japanese friend Miki from St. Louis (she was transferred there after Ayres was bought by May Co.) saying they were so behind in doing the holiday catalogues (it took 3 months to complete one) that she desperately needed me for a week to help with layouts. I knew my boss would never let me go, so I made up an excuse. I told him my mother’s sister had passed away and I needed to take my Mom to the funeral out of state and she was too afraid to fly (which was true, but Aunt Opal was still very much alive). I wasn’t going to get any pay that week (no vacation time accrued yet) and had no work that couldn’t be done by the overstaffed department, so I had my exit planned. I felt a tiny bit guilty, but was thrilled to have work to do. I stayed with Miki at her house and I so enjoyed seeing her and getting to work on the holiday catalogues (they paid me well). My only slip up was when talking (me and my big mouth) to the lady next to me on the plane finding out she was a neighbor of one of my co-workers at H.H. Gregg. I explained the situation and told her, “you never met me please.” No one ever suspected anything and I felt like a kid skipping class and going to a friend’s house to party! I want you to know I never did such a thing.
That year I wrote everyone I knew nice long handwritten letters, that I will never have time to do again. For me lack of stress is stressful. I need deadlines, I need last-minute ad changes or I feel useless. I need to be creative or I go nuts.
I remember the last week I worked at H.H Gregg I kept track of every minute I worked and wrote it down. In a 40 hour week, I actually worked 4 hours!
I finally gave notice and got hired at the Indianapolis Star after all — 3rd times a charm.
Next month – Working at the Indpls. Star
