“Please, I beg of you, don’t make me start today. You can have my gift certificate for a mani/pedi on Fillmore if you let me start next week. Trust me, that’s a great deal, have you seen your nail beds?” Roan doesn’t lie, and I’m tempted, I really do need to stop picking my cuticles.
“We agreed that when applications passed the 250 mark we would start setting up parent interviews. And bywe, I mean you. Here, I brought you Altoids to get you started.” I shake the can at Roan like he’s a kitty ready to pounce on a shiny object.
“They can’t smell my breath over the phone.”
“No, but in two hours when I come back to check on you and your mouth is all dry and cottony from talking to 261 fascinating parents, trust me—rank. You know I always work from a state of self-preservation.”
Roan takes a huge swig of coffee and exhales in my general direction.
“Well, I was going to let you wait until next week, but after that act of insubordination, it’s game on, Roan.”
“You were not. Alright, pop an Altoid yourself and let the cold calling begin.” Roan has surrendered to the chief.
“Okay, I want to hear you do your first conversation since it’s been a year; put the call on speaker. Remember to be accommodating, enthusiastic, and kind. Don’t be pushy, but don’t let them manipulate you. Avoid unnecessary conversation, but try to connect over something you may have in common so they feel known and they feel important. Oh, and heard, people love to be heard; psychology 101. Oh, and remember DO NOT get off the phone until you have nailed down an actual date and time, no matter how annoyed you may get. In other words, pretend to be someone you’re not.”
“Any other advice for a grown man who has successfully been making phone calls long before you came along?”
“Yes, withhold sarcasm, as painful as it may be for you. And if you play nice, I’ll buy lunch today AND let you choose where we eat.”
“Today’s lunch is above and beyond all my school tour wins, right?” Roan questions, raising his eyebrows at me. I notice a few new forehead lines but decide it’s in my best interest not to point those out to him now.
“Let the Academy Award–winning performance begin.” Roan dials a 917 number for an Alice Allsworth. Must be a New York transplant.
ROAN:Hello, is this Alice Allsworth?
ALICE:Speaking (says Alice with the disdain of a woman being solicited for money by her kid’s sleepaway camp).
ROAN (ALREADY ANNOYED BUT MAINTAINING COMPOSURE):This is Roan Dawson from the admissions office at Fairchild Country Day School.
ALICE (WITH A COMPLETE CHANGE IN TONE AND LEVEL OF EXCITEMENT):Oh, well, HELLO, Roan, so lovely of you to call. You just caught me between my Pilates session and running to open my store for the day.
Roan and I quickly skim through the application online to find that Alice owns a high-end denim and chocolate bar on Sacramento Street in Presidio Heights. Seems like either a complete oxymoron or marketing genius. Buy jeans and chocolate. Eat too much chocolate. Need new pair of three-hundred-dollar jeans. I make a mental note to google the shop.
ROAN:Well, I’m calling to set up a day for you and your husband to come in for a parent interview on behalf of your child, Smith.
ALICE:Absolutely, we are wide open. I’m so thrilled to hear from you, this is news we’ve been waiting for since we sent in our application. Do you have a date and time to suggest? Meeting with Fairchild is our number one priority.
ROAN:How about next Tuesday at three-forty-five?
ALICE:Does Smith attend the interview? Because if he does, Tuesday afternoons are out for us. On Tuesdays he has private CrossFit sessions to work on his core strength and agility for soccer season.
ROAN:No, the interview is just for you and your husband. It takes about twenty to thirty minutes. So then, will Tuesday at three-forty-five work?
ALICE:That should work. No, never mind, Steven has his weekly call with his leadership coach on Tuesdays at four o’clock. They have been together since his first job post–business school. He’s more faithful to her than he is to me.
Roan writes downTMI!in huge block letters on a notepad.
ROAN:Okay, how about anytime the week of October twenty-second?
ALICE:Well, that would be perfect, but I will be in Tokyo all week at a denim show and it can’t be missed. The Japanese are the Chanel of denim, you know.
I see Roan clench his jaw. I meet his TMI comment and raise him achillax.
ROAN:Well, since you are the first family I have called, perhaps you would like to suggest a date and time that will work for you and Steven.
ALICE:That’s a brilliant idea. Give me just a minute to scroll through my calendar. Steven and I can come in for a coffee at 7:00 a.m. the first and third Tuesday of every month and, of course, we are always available for drinks after 8:00 p.m. at Spruce. It would be fun to get to know each other over a cocktail, don’t you think? The ambiance at Spruce is so intimate; it’s a wonderful place to chat. Oh, and we have a nanny on Saturdays and Sundays, too, so weekends are a possibility.
ROAN (POINTING A FINGER GUN TO HIS TEMPLE):While I can think of nothing more I would like to do with my free mornings and evenings, the admissions office has a strict policy of meeting with parents on campus between the business hours of 8:00 a.m.and 5:00 p.m. I hope that will not be inconvenient for you and Steven.
