They still shoot messengers, don't they? (A story about Oprah Winfrey and me)

February 25, 2005 | Category: On The Job

A little more than 10 years ago, I had quit my chaplaincy and I needed to make some money. So I signed up at every temp agency in town.

The first one sent me to basically do some electronic filing at the Chanel Store on Michigan Avenue. $7 an hour, I think.

I showed up in my vintage thrift store suit and my Hair Cuttery 'do and they quickly shoved me into the back room.

I was taught how to answer the phone and take messages and make coffee and where to hang up the lovely fur coats of their customers.

In between all that, they showed me the f*cked up computer they were using. That thing was as messed up as it could be and I started my actual assignment - organizing all their data and making back-ups.

At one point, they had me fetch a coat. "Hurry!" the woman snapped at me. "It's for OPRAH WINFREY!"

So I scurried, and the moment I got to the door that opened to the sales floor, the woman ripped the thing from my hands. But not before Oprah smiled at me for a nanosecond.

Afterwards, the boss lady came back and shouted. Was I an idiot? She demanded. Did I not understand the savoir-fair that is Chanel? I was not to be SEEN by customers. I was to reach just the coat through the door.

About 10 minutes later, the phone rang. It was Oprah Winfrey. She had left her sunglasses on the counter, and she was having her limo turn around. Oprah asked me my name, and I told her, and she asked if I could run the sunglasses out.

I told her the manager should do it.

She sighed and asked was there anyone else who was available?

I really felt for Oprah, there. I'd only spent 3 minutes with the manager and it was already obvious to me that she was quite the b*tch.

So when the limo pulled up a few minutes later, I quietly slipped the sunglasses to Oprah's driver. Oprah called out "Thank you, Elizabeth!" from the back.

Then I walked over to the Walgreens on some errand. But my ruse hadn't helped me, the manager came running back to scream at me the moment I returned.

Only the MANAGER spoke to Ms. Winfrey, you see. How DARE I speak to Ms. Winfrey? How DARE I not immediately inform the manager that Ms. Winfrey would be returning to Chanel?

I was fired on the spot.

As I walked down the sidewalk towards the bus stop, one of the sales associates came running up to me. She had a little Chanel shopping bag full of samples - perfumes, some make-up, and a giveaway change purse. I remember being extremely touched by her kindness.

I wear Chanel perfume, to this day.

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