Pay raise Part II

I waited, silently wishing that he wouldn't show up. I inched closer to the outside wall where the sun spilled onto green benches from large windows and automatic doors, searching for a signal. I leaned against the cold wall and tapped on my phone, checking my e-mail. My student was late as usual, knowing that the role was not called until ten minutes after class had started. That suited me just fine, giving me enough time to get my messages.

I scrolled through a few insignificant messages, spam and what not, and then my eyes landed on the following message: "Samantha, I would like to set up a meeting to discuss your concerns. Please let me know when you are available."

Gulp. I hadn't anticipated a face to face meeting. Instead I expected a dry, straight forward e-mail stating the schools' case and how my expectations and desires were not going to be honored. Or, I expected no e-mail at all. All I knew is that when I sent that letter - very professional and non-emotional (the longer, more elaborate version, by the way) - I did not expect this. I felt as if I had been called into the principal's office.

Soon after my student strolled into class and I had done my job, I found a computer where I could more quickly type out my sentiments. "Sure." I replied. "I would be happy to meet with you. Here is my availability. . ."

Perhaps I sounded a little too eager, a little too chipper, but I wanted to make it clear that I was not preparing for a heated confrontation.

I waited for a day. Two days. A week. Nothing. Then, one day a client didn't show up to class. I HAD to go to my boss's office to report the absence and find out where else she would like me to go, that being the protocol when you have an absence.

"While you're here" she says, "we can talk." Gulp.

"Oh, yeah! Sure! Love to." Gulp.

She makes small talk and eventually we get down to business. My anger and frustration with the situation having been diffused, I no longer care what her reasons are for retracting a portion of the pay raise.

She makes her case. She isn't the one responsible for deciding how much we get paid. She is overwhelmed with her position as she is doing two peoples' jobs and she accidentally wrote the wrong amount on our contracts. New contracts are on their way. I begin to feel sorry for her.

I expressed my feelings of frustration with the system, my suspicion that my abilities were not being taken seriously or appreciated and however, that I was still happy to have some kind of raise. Before I left I did my best to assure her that I was happy to work here, and I did not still harbor any ill feelings about the situation.

So, the pay raise retraction still stood. I wasn't getting any favors.

I figured after such a meeting, I needed to relax a bit. I called the nail salon and made an appointment for two at 5:45. Mani and pedi. My friend, Lily, got off work, and we headed to Lina's Nails. We had talked about doing this for awhile, and since I was also flying to Florida for the weekend, it seemed a good time to plan such pampering.

In our area there are numerous nail salons. I could have chosen any, but his was my nail salon of choice because of the great service and low prices. However, I was in walking distance of approximately five other nail salons. So, you'll imagine my surprise as I walked into Lina's and saw my boss at the nearest manicure table. The same lady I just sat with discussing my concerns about money.

We stared at each other and smiled. I'm thinking, I just saw you an hour ago. What the-? Why this salon?!

"Hi."

"Hi."

(me) "Ummmm. . . .wow, what are you doing here? Well, of course, you are getting your nails done . . . but wow - you're here. Ummmmm. . . this is my friend, Lily. This is a lady I work with. . .well, good to see you. Funny." Nervous giggle.

Of all the nail places she could have gone, she chose this one!!! I'm floored. I make my way to the pedicure chair, all the while thinking how ironic it must seem that I am getting my nails done when I just expressed disdain at an insufficient pay raise. I feel like a fool.