Indiana Wants Me . . . Lord, I Can’t Go There

Back in the olden days, I was hired as a trainee for the Philips Van-Heusen Shirt Company. I was the first woman on the sales team in Chicago, that made me the second in that role nationwide in the company. During that training year, I was kind of a golden child, I got the systems, taught the guys how to use them, made relationships with customers and partnered well with the big time sales reps. I loved my job.

Then the guy in Indianapolis quit. He had replaced the guy who had quit just months before that. I was too young to think through what that quick change in personnel meant.

My boss offered me that territory –- at my six months review — heck, the teritory was even made bigger. That was something. My boss said I didn’t have to go, but he also said that he couldn’t promise I’d still have a job in Chicago, if I didn’t go.

I didn’t want to go. I love Chicago. I didn’t need the money. I had just bought a condo.

A golden child didn’t say “no,” did she? I felt I had to go. I think I was still worried about teacher approval and following orders. Do the program. Pay my dues. Do what I was supposed to do. I made up a romantic rationale and said “yes.”

Soon enough I was singing that old pop tune, “Indiana wants me. Lord, I can’t go back there.”
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