Reprinted with permission, Cat Fanciers' Almanac, March, 1997
Go ahead...laugh, giggle, and guffaw your head off. Get it out of your system. Ready to go on now?
Good. In a minute we're going to put you in the shoes of an entry clerk for a typical evening just before a show's closing.
While there are several entry clerk services CFA clubs utilize, a large number of the shows are still serviced by entry clerk volunteers -- usually club members or friends or family of club members -- and ALL of these have at some time entry clerked for the first time. Many of these first time entry clerks never serve as entry clerks again. Why? In some cases the person may not have been suited for the job in the first place. In many more, they were unprepared for the enormity, complexity, and intensity of the task.
While the computer end of the job is moderately technical and requires some practice to become proficient, it s also the simplest part of the job. Wherever humans are involved, tasks become complicated quickly and the show job that deals with people the most intensely is entry clerking. A couple of prior Almanac articles have contributed to the subject of entry clerking. Tony Laufnick wrote a piece several months back on the typical problems entry clerks face. We wrote a few months ago about Larry Ritter's CompuShow software for entry clerks. Let's try and pull everything into focus by looking over an entry clerk's shoulder one evening during the week prior to closing.
[The Scene: The entry clerk has just grabbed a quick bite to eat after putting in a full day's work at THE JOB and has separated the entries from the regular mail. It is the day before the advertised closing date and 3 days before the absolute, last-possible, never-get-the-catalog- printed-if-I-don't-close-now date. The show has some 200 entries and a 300-entry limit. THE SPOUSE is cleaning the litter boxes and the entry clerk hopes to get to bed within 3 hours.]
First, the day's phone messages must be pulled from the answering machine. Requests for flyers have tapered off and most of the calls now are changes, requests for the "real closing date," the current count, and the "Am I in?" calls. Most of the return calls the entry clerk makes are to answering machines. We talk a lot to answering machines. They're our best friends. It often takes 20-30 minutes to return the day's calls, mainly because the few people who are home habitually say "Let me ask you a question" repeatedly until you are on the verge of attempting to reach through the phone to perform an emergency tonsillectomy just to save your sanity. Finally, the entry clerk gets around to the mail.
Opening the mail is always a treat...NOT! Ask any entry clerk about entries and they'll tell you a significant portion of the cat fancy hasn't a clue how to fill them out properly. How significant a portion? Dan's experience is that one entry form in four is wrong. Most common error: incorrect or missing color class number. We've looked up the proper color class numbers so many times the more experienced of us have most of them memorized. HINT: The color prefix on your cat's registration number is NOT always the color class number. People who've been breeding and exhibiting for years often don't know the color class numbers for their own breed.
Other errors are also common. Among the more popular are missing signature, signature not the owner's, missing status (or, as we find out after you get your confirmation, wrong status checked), wrong year on birthdate (we get a lot of those kittens who will be born 6 months after the show), and -- Dan's personal favorite -- missing digits in the registration number.
RING!
Rats! It's the phone. We wear out the batteries on the cordless phone
in record time when we're
getting close to the closing date. The phone is constantly ringing and
interrupting the other jobs
we're trying to do.
RING!
I guess I'd better get that.
"Hello?"
"Is the show closed yet?"
"I'm still opening today's mail, but I'm sure I don't have enough
entries here to fill the show."
"Can I fax you an entry?"
"Sure. Just give me a couple of minutes to turn it on." I hang up the
phone and boot up my
computer. My fax/modem software loads automatically and sits waiting
for an incoming call.
Now where was I? Oh yes, errors in entries. We also get our fair share of errors in filling out the checks for the entry fees. Forget the wrong amounts; how about the unsigned checks? How about the checks made out to the wrong club? Even better, how about checks made out to CFA or to the entry clerk personally? I often use the latter to cover expenses, then subtract the amount from my expense bill to the club. Of course, this is only done after first getting permission from the show manager. I jot the details down for future reference in the show financials summary.
We continue opening entries and checking them for errors. It's easier to look up all the missing color class numbers at once, when I remember to do it. More often than not, I end up searching for them (if I don't have the particular one memorized) while I'm putting 'em in the computer.
RING!
"Hello?"
"I've been trying to call you all day! Where have you been?"
"Excuse me? Who is this?" After finding out who the caller is I
explain that I've been at work all
day and have just gotten home within the past hour.
"What? You mean you don't make a living being entry clerk?" I have a
mental picture of Homer
Simpson slapping his forehead and saying "Doh!"
Try and remember when calling your local entry clerk that they're usually volunteers who do the job only for the expenses they incur. They don't get paid to take any abuse. They do try and help you as best as they are able (within the show rules) and are generally quite tolerant. Remember, we frequently answer the same question 20 or more times in an evening, so when you call and ask #21, the voice tone may sound a bit strained or tired. We're still trying to be patient and helpful, though. Lord knows, sometimes it isn't easy. Consider the following actual events:
[The Scene: 11:30 PM EST at Dan's house. It's the Monday before the 1996 International Show.]
RING!
"Hello?"
"What time does check in start this weekend?"
"Do you have any idea what time it is?"
"Yeah, it's about 8:30."
"It may be 8:30 where you live. Do you know where you're calling?"
"No."
["Doh!"]
[The Scene: The Show Manager's house the day before closing.]
RING!
"Hello?"
"I've been trying for [insert random number here] hours to fax an entry
to the entry clerk and his
fax number and phone number are both busy. Can you get in touch with
him and let him know
I'm trying to fax him an entry?"
"If you can't get through because his number's busy, how do you expect
me to?"
["Doh!"]
[Scene, Act I: Processing entries.]
Two exhibitors have combined their entries to get a $5 multiple entry discount. One person's name appears on all entries, but there are two checks, one from each exhibitor, to cover the amount. I process the entries and send the confirmation to one of the exhibitors.
[Scene, Act II: Check in.]
"Where's my catalog?" I look up the entry and remember the situation.
"You only get a catalog with a first entry. You combined your entry
with "whomever" to get the
multiple entry discount. You'll have to buy a catalog."
"Okay, how much are they?"
"$8."
["Doh!"]
It's a good thing I'm a volunteer. They couldn't pay me enough to do this for a living!
Actually, the vast majority of folks we deal with are just fine. They're polite, they're sorry for intruding, they need information they can't get any other way. No problem. It's the minority who make the job tough. Also the well-intentioned with a lousy sense of timing. The latter are often the folks who suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous discontent when they call just at the point the entry clerk has had his fill. Both parties have to try to be understanding. As the entry clerks, we try to be polite when asnwering the same question for the umpteenth time. The experienced exhibitor should also know when they are probably pushing the limits of reasonability and be more considerate. No entry clerk likes calls after midnight, no matter who you are!
Well, it's time to put these entries in. We take the fax offline, since the computer can't run the entry software and accept faxes at the same time. The first entries are correctly filled out and the fee is correct. Great start! The second has an entry marked as a kitten, but it will be 8 months on the first day of the show. Better set that one aside and call later. The next few are okay (one is missing a color class number, but I know that number by heart and just put it in). Then we come to a fun one.
The exhibitor enters 3 cats without double cages. An agent is listed for one entry and the exhibitor requests to be benched with someone else. The bench request has already entered one cat (no double cage), but the agent hasn't entered yet. I see this as a pain in the butt for whomever is benching the show, but I dutifully put it in the computer. The next few entries are unremarkable, then one catches my eye. The person has identified a co-owner of an entered cat and requests to be benched with them. Great! Often, exhibitors simply assume we'll realize a co- owner on a cat is entered (or will enter) and expect us to automatically bench them together. Don't! Ever try and remember 225 to 450 cats over the course of a month or so, including all the details of each one? Not bloody likely!
RING!
"Hello?"
"Can I fax you an entry?"
"Not just now. I'm putting entries into the computer and the computer
cant take entries and faxes
at the same time. Fax it in a couple of hours."
"But I just have to get my entry into this show!"
"I'm sure you'll be able to get in, but it won't be in the next 2
hours. Just fax it later and I'll put it
in first with tomorrow's entries."
(Sounding doubtful) "Okay..."
I continue putting entries in and am only interrupted by 9 more calls. There is only one entry form missing a signature. Two exhibitors have overpaid and one has underpaid. It's a really good night! There have been lots of evenings that were worse than this one! You folks were lucky to not catch me on one of those nights. Suffice it to say you might learn how creative I can be with my suggestions about exhibitors' anatomy, their intelligence, and the validity of their heritage. Tonight you've been spared.
The only thing left now is to print the confirmations, fold them up with a flyer and directions, and staple and stamp all. It's tedious and time-consuming, but I should be able to get it done before bedtime so they can go out in the morning mail. My wonderful wife wanders in and informs me the cats are all fed and litterboxes scooped. Some nights I opt to swap jobs with her. I'm fortunate to have a spouse who's also experienced at entry clerking, so when it gets to be a real bear, I have a "back-up entry clerk" to share the load. Not too many folks have that luxury. Of course, when she enters cats into the computer, there's no chance I will be able to remember any information about them later when a frantic exhibitor calls. That's the trade-off. Oh well.
Well, I've spent all evening plugging entries into the show. I haven't seen a TV program or movie for days. I've had few personal calls and I had to cut all of those short so I could get the entries in. I can't wait until the show is over and some semblence of sanity returns to my life. Even after the show closes, there's lots to do. Print and assemble the catalog. Send it off to the printer. Take the laser printer offline and connect the dot matrix so I can print all the judges books and master clerk catalog. That'll take two nights to finish. Then assemble the stuff I printed, forms from the show package, stuff I'll need for check-in (like a list of who owes or is owed money, labels for the catalogs, etc).
Yep, it'll be days before life is back to normal. I can't wait...