"Are you a guard dog?" No kidding, some guy asked me this at my receptionist job recently when I had the nerve to call a colleague and alert him to the visitor's presence.
Back in my temp days, I filled in at the front desk of an ad agency and found the job ridiculously easy— perhaps because the young man I was subbing for, during my training, showed me how basically all he did was answer the phone and play Scrabulous. I can now say that the life of a receptionist is not usually so simple. This week the Times looks at the plight of the "gallerina." Wish my post had such a cute nickname.
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