Rachel Credit Control technique unlikely to be taught at Accountancy School.

rachel.png It was 1987. Walking back to my office from the coffee machine in the corridor used to take me past the office occupied by my PA and also our Credit Controller. Friendly girls. Their door was always open.

Intelligent, enthusiastic, loyal, hard working and very good at their jobs.

"Because you haven't paid your fuckin' bill! That's why not!" I heard Rachel yelling down her phone.

Somewhat taken aback, I took a step back. "Hi Jenny, Hi Rachel. Everything going OK?" I asked. With answers in the affirmative, I continued. "Rachel, when you have a moment could you pop next door to see me please?"

"Come in Rachel. Close the door. That's right. Sit down please. Just to let you know that since your promotion last year Accounts Receivables Aging has improved enormously. So well done! You've got Receivables down to under forty days now, and they were at around fifty. A remarkable achievement."

Rachel looked pleased and wriggled a bit in her chair, in apparent and well deserved delight. "Who were you talking to just now, on your last call?" I asked.

"Oh, Bob McIntosh was it? MD of our main Scottish distributor. Was there a problem?"

"Yes." Replied Rachel. "He hasn't paid his fuckin' bill. So I told him we couldn't ship until he did."

"So I gather. Quite right. You told him so."

"I certainly fuckin' did." Confirmed Rachel.

"OK Rachel. Thanks. That'll be all for now. Keep up the good work. Oh. Just one thing. Do you think you could perhaps drop the 'F' word when talking to our customers?"

"Sure Chris. I'll fuckin' try." Said Rachel.

And she did. Good girl was Rachel. I miss her.