Working People : Receptionists, the Front Line of Every Office

Receptionists are the gatekeepers of business and bear the brunt of uncivil behavior ranging from rudeness to mayhem. TRIN YARBOROUGH asked four how they cope.

CECILIA ESPINOSA GUNKLE

County-USC Medical Center, Psychiatric Admissions

The number of patients coming in has increased and people are sicker too. For more than a year after the Jan. 17, 1994, earthquake damaged our building, all of us were crowded into the same area--myself and the other staffers, nurses, doctors, the patients, their families.

We have regulars who have been coming for years and get violent when they can’t get their medication; lost old people with Alzheimer’s who don’t know who they are; people brought in by the police or by a psychiatric emergency team because they’re violent or incoherent; and more and more people who for years went to a private doctor, but have lost their jobs and insurance and can’t afford medication.

We get people who were always normal, but suddenly can’t function anymore. We get older children who have lost a younger sibling and blame themselves. We have suicidal people brought in by desperate families. And children who won’t talk; with these, the doctors often let me try to get them to open up.

Some people come in very combative: They may fight with each other right in front of our desks, threaten us, screaming “I hate you!” You just have to stay calm. Sometimes I ask them quietly if they’re hungry, and often they say yes. Some are so pitiful I’ve given them my own lunch.

I often interpret from Spanish to English. Not long ago, a really small, very quiet man came in. But when they started to take him to a ward, he fought wildly against four guys.

He was from El Salvador and thought they were going to hurt him. I touched his chest, said in Spanish, “Have faith, don’t be afraid,” and explained what was happening and he calmed down.

I’ve been there since 1988, and although most people don’t understand why, I really love my work.

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LA’ TANYA ANTHONY

American Civil Liberties Union, Los Angeles

On Mondays and Tuesdays when we do intake, the phones are ringing off the walls. People, many with their children, are waiting in the reception area. Some feel they’ve been discriminated against at work because of their race or sexual preference. Others say they’ve been beaten by police or sheriffs. People call who are hearing impaired and have to talk through an operator, or are disabled and can’t come into the office. Then there are the occasional crazy people, like one who said he couldn’t put his complaint in writing because the FBI was monitoring his mail and phone.

The hardest people to deal with are ones demanding to see an attorney right away, because that’s against our procedure. If they get really angry, I tell them to feel free to write my boss and complain. But the only thing that really upsets me is when an elderly person, usually a woman, calls up crying because she’s being swindled out of her house or all of her money.

Different people have to be talked to in different ways. Little kids who call need you to talk simple and slow. People with attitudes who are going off at the mouth need to be treated not rudely, but sternly. For the crying ones, I reach into my sympathy box and talk real soft.

A lot of my work is referring people to other agencies that handle problems the ACLU doesn’t deal with. I also try to get callers to explain their problem briefly, because the switchboard only has four lines and when four people are on hold, nobody else can get through.

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ELIZABETH PAVONE

Rhino Records, Los Angeles

My job is very hectic. I’m answering phones nonstop for more than 100 people. Rhino has a lot of real loyal fans--disabled veterans, people living in small towns in the South, would-be performers--who feel like they already know you. They call from all over the country, telling me their life stories and talking about how much Rhino means to them. I try to talk to them as long as I can, but all the time the other phones are ringing off the hook.

Plus all kinds of guests keep coming in and I have to catch them before they wander through the building. Besides people with appointments, there are messengers, caterers, nonfat yogurt runners, people who have a band or know a singer, and occasionally someone homeless.

After three years on this job, I’m able to deal with all the stress by exercising a lot, not answering my phone when I go home and writing poetry and song lyrics. I’ve had two children’s songs recorded and had some of my poetry published.

This is a fun job because it’s a fun company. You get to meet anyone famous who comes in, like the Monkees. And you always know everything that goes on, because everyone and everything comes through you.

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KATIE KALVIN

Works for a cosmetic surgeon, Santa Monica

Ninety percent of our patients are referrals, but often people call sort of shopping around to choose a surgeon. Their first impression may determine if they come in, and that first impression is set by the receptionist answering the phone. Men are especially hesitant to ask about certain procedures. I tell them that a lot of men are getting face lifts nowadays, and a lot of younger people are, too.

On the day of their operation--95% are done in the office--a few come in really nervous and ready to call it all off, even though they’ve already paid for and planned this a long time. I usually take them in a room and talk to them, reassuring them and telling how glad they’ll be once the procedure is done.

We have a lot of actress patients, and many start working on their lips by age 20 or 21. Gore-Tex, which is used to repair arteries for heart patients, (is used to) give lips a nice, pouty look.

We have many well-known patients who don’t want anyone to know about their surgery. They like to get special kid-glove treatment and complete privacy, but they’re usually quite nice.