Thanks, Frank

… or maybe I should say Sid Vicious, or Paul Anka, the writer of the famous song, “My Way.”  Now we have a whole generation (or more) of people who think that THEIR WAY is the BEST WAY, and should be OUR WAY, too.

I went into a local store last Friday to re-order my business cards but the four people working in the store didn’t know how to access their computer database that had my already-designed card in it and vehemently told me to return on Tuesday. 

So I went to another local store on Monday, thinking perhaps they would like my paltry piece of business for $30 because, you know, one day I may actually make some money and end up spending more than that.  This second store is one I have been using recently, and I thought I would be pretty satisfied with their level of customer service. 

So, I presented my already designed business card and told them I needed one that looked just like it, with some small changes to the company name/ logo, and they said I could have a proof in approx. 24 hours (Tuesday afternoon).  Tuesday afternoon, I went back to the store (since I’d not received my proof by e-mail), and it wasn’t done yet.  So Wednesday morning (today) I went back in 11-ish, as instructed, and the card was done --- but all the type sizes had been changed.  Why?  Well, the artiste told me that his way was much better than mine.  I should have asked him if HE was planning to pay for my order.  I had to explain to him twice, rather harshly, that those of us who are “over 29” can’t read “mice type,” and that many of the people I do business with are in their 60s - 80s.

Why is it that so many people today think that they know what I SHOULD want when in fact I have already told them what I DO want?  I've now lost 24 hours on something I need and the typesetter wasted his company’s time producing something I didn't ask for and can’t use. 

And of course, no one stops to think of how awful I feel when I have to be so firm (which can translate into “bitchy,” depending on who’s within hearing range).

©  Elena E. Smith, 2011