The bad thing about having a day job is that every two minutes, you run up against some one who either annoys you or just pisses you completely off. I have a bevy of folks I could write about over the course of my career, but I’d like to take this opportunity to describe the most annoying “client” in the world. I will call him Ricky B. He’s cheery. He’s neurotic. He’s lonely. And when you pick up the phone and he’s on the other end, he’s is your worse nightmare.
“Hello?”
“Biiiiiinnnnnxxxxx! How are YOUUUUUUUUU!”
Every time I pick up the phone, I fear this is what I’ll hear. Ricky is a “client” because he orders the minimum amount of product that he can from us once a year, and then goes into arrears over the small amount he owes. The Powers That Be won’t refuse to do business with him. The Powers that Be also don’t get calls from him.
Never has any client been so dedicated to our company though. We don’t know why. He barely uses our product.
We think he’s lonely. He has a wife. He has kids. Instead of focusing on them, he wants to help us be a success. He wanted to take one of VIPs to a Far East country to introduce him to our clients there. Problem is, we know our clients. For months he called me about the trip, and not just me, but about 5 or 6 people. We all kept saying, “they are our clients, we don’t need an introduction.” I guess he didn’t listen. Finally, one day, he did hear me and said, “you have clients there?”
We’ve unionized, however, all us workers on Ricky’s radar. One of my coworkers, whom I’ll call Bernice, had a conversation with him yesterday that went like this.
“Hello.”
“BERNIIIIIICE!”
“No, this is not Bernice. Can I transfer you?”
“Yes, thank you. It’s urgeeeeeeeent.”
Bernice has a very distinct Boston accent. The fact that he does not know it’s her is a testimony to his brilliance.
Everyone knows that when Ricky calls, they tell him I’m out. They don’t know where. They don’t know when I’ll be back. And no, I don’t have a cell phone. It’s never about business, so I’m not missing anything. Usually, he wants to ask us questions that are confidential and proprietary information that we can’t answer. Or he wants me to write a press release on how he’s offered to help us grow his business.
“I can’t write a press release on that, Ricky.”
“You caaaaaan’t? Why noooooot?”
“Because it’s not news. And because we aren’t in a partnership together.”
“But I’ve seen press releases on stuff like that.”
“Well, we can’t do that.”
“Why noooot?”
“Gee, Ricky, business is booming, we really don’t need your help. We have people here that we pay who do that.”
“But I care so much about your company. I really want to see you suceeed.”
“We are succeeding.”
“But I can heeeeeelp.”
Ricky, I want to say, you can’t even pay your measly bills.
Here’s another conversation with Ricky.
“Hello?”
“BIIINNNNX! How are YOUUUUUU?”
“Oh. Ricky. Hi.”
“HOW ARE YOUUUUUUUUUUUUU?”
“Okay. What can I do for you?”
“Just fine? You are not GREAAAAT?”
“I’m rather swamped, Ricky. I have a meeting to go to in just a minute. What can I do for you?”
“WHAT’s WROOOONG?”
“I’m busy. How can I help you?”
“I can’t reach Bernice. Can you find her for me?”
“She’s not here.”
“HOW ARE YOUUUUU?”
Twenty minutes later, after he’s asked why I sound tense and why can’t I issue a press release on how he’s trying to help us grow our business, we hang up. Then I vow I’ll never answer the phone again. Then my line rings. I don’t answer it. I check my voice mail. It was a legitimate, important call. Because Ricky B terrorizes my line, I miss the calls I need.
What can you do with someone who is technically a client, and your boss insists that you have to be professional with them? When you ask your boss to deal with him, he won’t. That’s cruel. It’s worth calling the Department of Labor over. Maybe the judge in the BTK case could use Ricky as a special punishment since there can be no death sentence.
