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So at work we have an Etsy shop among many other ventures, and that's where we've listed our film transfer services, and that's fine and it works astonishingly well. I'm always stunned by how poor people's reading comprehension is, and yet--
the other day I got a phone call, yes a phone call, from someone who had done all the necessary sleuthing work to connect our physical phone number to our Etsy shop via our online store, and this woman's question amounted to admitting that she had not read our listing and so did not understand how to place her order, so over the phone I read her our listing, which answered all our questions but begs, in turn, the question of, how did you find our phone number if you can't read, but. We can but throw up our hands, is what that amounts to, it's unknowable.
Anyway. A very elderly man placed an order through our Etsy shop and sent in his film, and how do I know he was elderly? well his handwriting, see. Palmer-style, and really shaky.
He sent several notecards along with his order, including his email address on them. I didn't worry about this, as he'd checked out through Etsy and there's a messaging system there, so I wrote to him to say his stuff had arrived, and then when we finished it I wrote to him to let him know it was done, and uploaded the tracking to their automated system knowing it would also send him an email.
Well he wrote today, to our website's main contact address. And he wrote the entire email into the subject line, and sent it with a blank body (except for the signature, "Sent from my iPad", which explains a lot there). I sent my film to you with UPS Tracking # thusandsuch, did it arrive."
The crowning beauty of this experience is that he concluded "I made the purchase thru Zesty".
It took me a moment. Zesty.
Yes. He did. He placed his order through Zesty. We are going to call it that, going forth. Gonna put that on my nonexistent business cards.
(It is a well-known facet of my customer service profile, for my coworkers, that I have a soft spot for genuinely harmless elderly men. I have no time for middle-aged men's shit and if they're mean regardless of age I'm not there for it one tiny bit, and for some reason old ladies hate me, but the really elderly guys with bad jokes and good intentions? oh my gosh. Why am I so tolerant of them? I don't know. The location where I worked the sales floor had a regular who'd been a tail gunner for B-24s in WWII and I was like putty in his hands. Whatever Angelo wanted, he got. even though generally I was shirty with dudes, it doesn't count if they're over 90. So when I tell you, I am not mocking the Zesty guy, I mean, I really am charmed and am not mocking him with this.)
the other day I got a phone call, yes a phone call, from someone who had done all the necessary sleuthing work to connect our physical phone number to our Etsy shop via our online store, and this woman's question amounted to admitting that she had not read our listing and so did not understand how to place her order, so over the phone I read her our listing, which answered all our questions but begs, in turn, the question of, how did you find our phone number if you can't read, but. We can but throw up our hands, is what that amounts to, it's unknowable.
Anyway. A very elderly man placed an order through our Etsy shop and sent in his film, and how do I know he was elderly? well his handwriting, see. Palmer-style, and really shaky.
He sent several notecards along with his order, including his email address on them. I didn't worry about this, as he'd checked out through Etsy and there's a messaging system there, so I wrote to him to say his stuff had arrived, and then when we finished it I wrote to him to let him know it was done, and uploaded the tracking to their automated system knowing it would also send him an email.
Well he wrote today, to our website's main contact address. And he wrote the entire email into the subject line, and sent it with a blank body (except for the signature, "Sent from my iPad", which explains a lot there). I sent my film to you with UPS Tracking # thusandsuch, did it arrive."
The crowning beauty of this experience is that he concluded "I made the purchase thru Zesty".
It took me a moment. Zesty.
Yes. He did. He placed his order through Zesty. We are going to call it that, going forth. Gonna put that on my nonexistent business cards.
(It is a well-known facet of my customer service profile, for my coworkers, that I have a soft spot for genuinely harmless elderly men. I have no time for middle-aged men's shit and if they're mean regardless of age I'm not there for it one tiny bit, and for some reason old ladies hate me, but the really elderly guys with bad jokes and good intentions? oh my gosh. Why am I so tolerant of them? I don't know. The location where I worked the sales floor had a regular who'd been a tail gunner for B-24s in WWII and I was like putty in his hands. Whatever Angelo wanted, he got. even though generally I was shirty with dudes, it doesn't count if they're over 90. So when I tell you, I am not mocking the Zesty guy, I mean, I really am charmed and am not mocking him with this.)
no subject
Date: 2019-05-01 06:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-05-01 06:46 pm (UTC)(why etsy is named what it is remains a mystery to me, so he has my full, deeply amused sympathy on that, too.)
no subject
Date: 2019-05-02 03:17 am (UTC)I have much the same reaction to anybody over a certain age who calls me mija. A lot of older Latinx folks in my town use mija/mijo as a general term of affection for anyone a generation or more younger. Old white man calling me honey or sweetie? "SIR I AM NOT YOUR HONEY" Old Latinx man calling me mija? "Absolutely anything you need abuelito I'm right here for you"