Charm THE MAN--and give her wine.

I was a half hour late for duty and could feel the sting of those disapproving eyes, the nasty thoughts darting through her mind towards my weak excuses. “I’m really sorry for being late. I—traffic was bad and I---“


“No time for explaining. Do you see all these people already? Get to work.”

And that’s what I did. I had signed up to work the beverage table at the Vagina Monologues event for the Studo@620. The event was scheduled to start at 7pm but by 6:30 there were people there already crowding around the beverages, getting their fill on a Friday night.

For my internship, I must work a number of hours with the studio. I have scheduled myself to work the beverage table for several events because I thought it would be cool to not only possibly get tips, but maybe partake a little while being entertained by an event I didn’t have to pay for. Me, me, me, right?

Wrong. There were no tips (all monetary donations go to the Studio) and I really did have to work this particular evening. I had a particularly uneventful Sunday of volunteer time working the beverage table a couple of weeks before. The event was a grudgingly loooooonnnnnnggg play, appropriately named The Long Day’s Journey Into Night, at which I did partake, and by the time it was “night” in the play (FOUR HOURS later, mind you), I had been about 4 glasses of Shiraz deep. Hardly any of the guests came to get drinks from the table. And she, the her from above, Winnie Howell, was by my side then, drinking wine with me and Stephanie, one of the other interns, making fun of how dry and depressing the play was. That night I felt that Winnie and I were best friends.

I didn’t feel that same warmth from her initially at the Vagina Monologues event. Winnie was all about work and no play. I apparently was moving too slow for her liking and had to endure her constant groans and sighs when it seemed I wasn’t pouring the wine or giving customers change quickly enough. “Move faster” she kept saying, and wouldn’t remove herself from her perch on my shoulder. “You were late, and all these people were here, so I had to take over.” Rub it in, rub it in.

So who is Winnie Howell? Winnie coordinates most of the volunteer positions in the Studo@620. She’s a busy woman. She manages the beverage and food tables, the admissions desk, parking attendants, membership information for the studio, and donations made to the studio. She even makes most of the desserts and gourmet dips. Winnie is the go-to person if you are an intern or volunteer. She’ll put you on her magical online spreadsheet so you can see when you are scheduled to work. She’ll schedule you to work alone at a task if she trusts you to fulfill the duty efficiently.

Before I even worked with Winnie, I heard how particular she was with most things. “Winnie is strict.” “Get on her good side.” “She’s tough to please.” “She’s really organized—don’t mess with her.” Lots of warnings made me very wary and a bit nervous when I first met her. I used my best professional voice and addressed her as Ms. Howell and shook her hand. I used complete sentences and proper grammar when I emailed her. She’s not a very emotional person, so she gave me mostly stern, indifferent looks as I almost bent over backwards to please her. Grovel, grovel, grovel.

But then, I discovered Winnie likes wine.

I had to step up my game a bit at the Vagina Monologues event. “She’s being so mean to me,” said Stephanie , who was assigned to be a greeter for the event. I was surprised because I thought Stephanie had already been on the untouchable, good side of Winnie. But then I felt better knowing that Winnie wasn’t sighing and groaning only at me. Winnie was obviously stressed at this event. People arrived way earlier than planned and I hadn’t shown up early enough to man the bar, so she had to work the bar in my place. I don’t know why she was giving Stephanie hell, but I know this was all aggravated by the fact that Winnie didn’t feel too fondly about women talking about their vaginas. “It doesn’t float my boat.”

So I learned quickly how to manage the bar, and by the time the event started, people stopped hounding the beverage table. Winnie got off my shoulder and had her first glass of Pinot Noir.

I joined her with the wine. I enjoyed the show, but enjoyed conversation with Winnie even more. Her stern, mean , “old lady look” transformed into a friendly Golden Girls smile. She told me her story about how she and her family came to St. Petersburg a few decades ago from a farm in Syracuse, New York. She told me how she loves it here in the sunshine and convinced an older family member to come down to Florida after spending an entire life not ever leaving Syracuse. “It was her first time on a plane.” As I poured her another glass of Pinot, Winnie told me about her son, Jim, and how his partnership with Bob Devin Jones brought her to work at the studio. We clinked glasses at a joke I can’t recall, and then I told her my life story. BEST FRIENDS!

The next time I came to the studio, I worked admissions at the City of Writers launch party. Winnie was very friendly, and I even overheard her saying about me, “she’s a fast learner, I could probably stick her in the bar to train someone.” Yay!

Really, it wasn’t all wine that got me on the good side of Winnie. I think she really needed to see me work and get to know me before warming up. To please Winnie, first of all, be on time. I think she was bothered by that initially. Second, work quickly and pay attention! None of the tasks I have been assigned have been rocket science, but there’s a certain flow and awareness of what’s going on that will help to keep things going fluidly. And third, learn how to charm.

So, if Winnie is THE MAN in this situation, I must learn about all of what it takes to please THE MAN, and I must also remember that THE MAN’s favorite wine is Pinot Noir.