This is a piece of advice to any person out there who may be considering getting into any kind of business at any level. This may seem simple, but I see people fuck it up so often that I have to get this out there. And no, I am not telling you what I do for a living.
Anyway, if you ever find yourself in a position where you want someone to do something for you or buy something from you, you need to be nice to them. I know that seems like a simple concept but well? fuck it. Let me just show you this example from work yesterday:
Me: Thank you for holding. This is Nathan.
Random Broker: Hey could I speak with [coworker]?
Me: She's on another line. Would you like to hold or should I take a message?
Random Broker: Listen?
(Right here, I already hate this person. She has not even bothered to tell me her name and is already telling me to listen. At this point in the conversation, I am thinking ‘go fuck yourself.')
Random Broker: Listen, I need
(Now I really hate her. I don't know her; she doesn't know me and she's told me to listen and that she needs something, but not her name. That is rude to the motherhumping ‘tude right there. It's as if I exist for her and I don't even know the bitch.)
Random Broker: Listen I need someone to fax documents so I can close this deal and I need it like yesterday.
Me: Do you believe that Micheal Spurlock finally broke the Bucs' thirty-one year kickoff return for a touchdown drought?
Random Broker: Excuse me?
Me: What's your name?
Random Broker (sighs): Rebecca.
(Now I want her dead. I mean I really want this person to get hit over the face with a hot waffle iron. She sighed when I asked her for her name. I'd have put this bitch on hold for a long time, but I have an obligation to my clients which supersedes my sensitivities (and not much else to do)).
Me: Rebecca, I'm Nathan. It's nice to meet you.
Rebecca: Ha ha. I guess I am in a rush but the thing is I really need this done and we have a mutual client who would probably find it beneficial if we focused on getting this done.
Me: You're right, we do. That, however, is not more important than manners.
(This is her last chance to hear my polite tone.)
Rebecca: Listen?
(Now she gets the harsher tone.)
Me: No you listen. And if you tell me to listen one more time, you'll be listening to a dial tone. Faxing random docs ain't in my job description so here's what I want you to do.
Rebecca: (sighs again).
Me: I want to start this conversation over and this time, I don't want you to say ‘listen', I don't want you to tell me what you need and I don't want to feel any attitude from you that emanates your supposed superiority over me. I'll start. This is Nathan.
Rebecca: This is ridiculous.
Me: No, this is where you say, “Nathan, Hi. My name is Rebecca. How are you doing today?” See how that works? It's called manners. It helps people feel respected, which in turn motivates them to do stuff for you. I learned this in Kindergarten so I'll bet it's not too complicated for you to pick up.
Rebecca: Is [coworker] available?
Me: Yeah, she got off the phone a few minutes ago. But good talk, huh?
Rebecca: Please put [coworker] on the phone.
Me: Gladly. Nice talking with you Rebecca.
Rebecca: (sighs again).
Now, Rebecca's same attitude infringes itself upon my assistant and coworkers every business day. I never realized it until our office went on a secretary carousel and I had to go back to (occasionally) doing some of my own paperwork and phone answering. But I've had it. From now on, I'm pulling a drill sergeant gimmick on every bitch that pulls this shit (unless they're one of my clients?I mean, when they sign the checks that pay the bills, they can call me Shithead for all I care).
So go ahead and get my Nobel Peace Prize ready. Daddy's got a new mission in life: he's teaching manners. Except on the weekends or during the evenings, when everyone should be free to get to be as rude as they want.
I mean, we can't be nice to each other every damn second, you know.