so i got her to ease up the pestering by just not being so friendly anymore. i’d tell her i was busy, not available, etc., and close the door. i know it sounds mean, but you didn’t have to live by her. the woman wasn’t wired right, and it almost felt like stalking sometimes. i mean, she would turn up at places i went to in the local area, more than a few times. or she’d always open her front door when i got home, or when i left to go somewhere. after she realised that i really didn’t want to talk to her, she started making all kinds of loud noises in her home, and i thought that was her reaction to being rejected. and she did an array of bizarre things to try to get me to react, anything to get some form of conversation, but i didn’t take the bait.
We were still newlyweds, having married when I got pregnant. Our daughter was only a few months old. My (now ex) husband had been in the Army, but after his time was up, he decided not to reenlist and so we left Frankfurt Germany and headed to his family home in North Carolina. We were staying at his father’s house until our place was finished. One morning, the baby was still sleeping and my ex and I got intimate. We were being very quiet, so we didn’t wake the baby up, and were entangled in quiet a compromising position, when I heard a tiny voice say, “Oh!”. I glanced up just in time to see my ex’s grandmother standing in the doorway. My ex said, “Mammaw, go away, I’m busy.”
Not my boss, but the company HR department. Not tried to implement, actually implemented. I was in management at the time, and this was in the 1980’s. I was an I.T. manager for a moderately large oil company. Up until that time, performance reviews and raises had been relatively simple and straight forward. Departments were allocated a “pot” of money to be handed out, and it was up to managers to decide who got how much of that pot based on their previous performance. Simple. Then some genius in HR read some article, or attended some conference, and came back with this “revolutionary” idea, all based on a standard bell curve. The whole policy surrounding reviews and raises was changed.
After that, reviews and ratings themselves were forced to fit a standard bell curve. This meant that every year, there were only a very few top ratings that were “allowed” to be given out, accompanied by a very few “bottom of the barrel” ratings that were forced to be given out. Most of the ratings were clustered around “average”, or rather were forced to be – all in order to “fit the curve”. Actual performance be damned. That was bad enough, but oh, it gets worse. The way this new policy was implemented was that at the BEGINNING of the review period, all of the managers in closely related departments would spend a couple of days in a room, meeting and fighting. My group and team was included with about 4 others managed by 4 other people.
The number of ratings for each category, ranging from “walks on water without getting wet feet” to “average Joe(sephina)” to “why is this person still employed here?” had been set in stone by HR already and allocated across all 5 teams. It was up to us, the managers of those teams, to allocate those ratings across our people on all 5 teams. So, the 5 of us managers would spend a couple of days, at the BEGINNING of the review period to argue, fight, cajole, beg, and plead to try to do the best we could for our people. Did you have a 3–4 guys who were really “killing it” and deserved to be recognized and rewarded? Didn’t matter. There were only 4 of the top ratings “available” to be handed out over all 5 teams, and once those 4 had been assigned, that was it.
so, just stop speaking to them. if they come to the door, politely tell them that you’re really busy and don’t allow them to linger at the door. be firm. just say something like “you know, i’m really busy, and sorry but i haven’t got time for these regular get togethers”. yeah, they might look like hurt little puppy dogs, but end of the day, they are being a nuisance. not to mention violating social distancing rules. They were just starting TV ads showing how cigarettes cause cancer; those scared me. My dad was a heavy smoker. Oh, no, he has cancer and he’s GOING TO DIE! What else would there be to be so secretive about? (Lesson: kids are going to jump to the worst conclusions if you lie to them.)