Liz Calderon of Cicero thought she was safe when one memorable call came through on her cell phone.
She was doing temp work after being let go from a previous job for filing for worker’s compensation. The caller was her attorney, who was trying to help her obtain the benefits she had been denied. So she borrowed an unoccupied office for a couple of minutes for some complete privacy.
“The person who managed me was out on travel, so I ducked in there,” she said.
After the conversation was over, the man in the next office saw Calderon looking distressed and called her in.
“Is everything OK? Because I overheard your conversation,” the exec said. “I just want you to know that if there’s anything I can do, please let me know.”
Even today, the moment is etched in Calderon’s mind.
“I was so embarrassed,” she said.
There are times when it’s probably OK to take a personal cell-phone call at work. Such as when your doctor finally gets back to you or your child is scared. This is the antithesis of the obnoxious cell-phone boor who subjects innocent bystanders to the excruciating details of his or her personal life.
For those who use their cell phone sparingly on the job, the problem is that cell phones and privacy go together like chocolate and cabbage. The need to talk a little louder or scurry around the office like a lab rat looking for better reception and a smidgen of privacy makes it even more likely that embarrassment will pile up along with your minutes.
Studies show that Americans are spending more time on the job than ever. If you add in the electronic monitoring equipment of cell phones and BlackBerrys, which let employers reach out and touch workers long after 5 p.m., it’s only natural that employees need to transact some personal business during the time they are tethered to their desks.
Cindy Post Senning, great-granddaughter of American etiquette icon Emily Post and a director of the Post Institute, isn’t a big fan of cell phones, once informing Newsweek magazine that life would be better “if cell phones could be amputated from people’s ears.” But she told Q that such personal calls on the job might actually be one of the technology’s more useful applications.
“If you really have an issue that requires that privacy option, the person should be able to say to their supervisor, `It’s about my kids at school. I need to step out for a few minutes.'”
Of course, personal calls have been part of the office landscape since phones came into common use. Calderon, a secretary, said she has noticed that the proliferation of cell phones has slowed the flow of personal calls streaming through the company switchboard, freeing up receptionists and administrative assistants to spend more time on business callers.
And some calls, she said, simply are too important not to take.
“When my kids stopped going to after-care and started going home by themselves, I wanted them to call me every day to make sure they got home safe,” she said.
Other calls demand gender privacy, Calderon added.
“If I wanted to call and make an appointment with a gynecologist, I would wait till men weren’t around,” she said.
But where to step?
Post Senning suggested borrowing a conference room or going outside. Calderon said she sometimes sits in her car during her lunch break.
“You can probably go in the restroom or out in the hall,” added Krista Patten, a receptionist from the South Side. The restroom, she said, “is a little more private than the work area and more quiet too. If it’s early in the morning, the bathroom is usually not that crowded. Now at lunchtime, that’s a different story.”
Donna Pederson of Evanston, who works in tech support, often is at clients’ workstations throughout the day and will not answer her cell phone, letting the call go to voice mail. If the voice mail is a personal matter she needs to attend to, she usually finds a quiet spot inside or outside her office building to return the call.
“I just think it’s the courteous thing to do,” she said. “And it’s kind of frowned upon if you’re sitting around on your cell phone.”
Amy Marek, a legal secretary from Homer Glen, solves the problem by stepping outside and multitasking, combining her smoking break with returning calls.
“I wait till my break and then I come down and use my cell phone,” she said.
The great outdoors is where Bucktown resident Mike Toleman and some of his telecom sales co-workers were hanging out near the Daley Center. That usually is where they take their calls unless they can grab a conference room’s land line. Stairwells are a bad bet because sound travels vertically and reception is a problem, Toleman said.
“The stairway is covered with metal,” he noted.
In Toleman’s office, many of the personal calls revolve around domestic issues. And those are the calls that everyone likes to tune in to.
“If it’s in the work area, I’ll listen because [I] know those people,” said Chad Corning, Toleman’s co-worker.
Corning turned to a colleague. “When you got into that argument with your girlfriend Friday … “
“Oh, yeah,” smiled his friend.
“I heard that loud and clear,” Corning finished.
Just then, Corning’s cell phone rang. It was his girlfriend. He turned to walk away.
“Wait, don’t go anywhere,” Toleman teased.
Added another buddy, “I want to hear this conversation.”
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pkampert@tribune.com
