Forgive me, dear and possibly forgiving Hatpeople, if I have a little rant today. I have just this morning received an e-mail which has precipitated this uncharacteristic behaviour. I mean, I remain totally committed to giving you all the “SA-positivity” you can bear, but I am human.
And I do have a name. It’s Fred. My name is Fred. It’s not There. So, if you know my name and you e-mail me or phone me, it’s “Hi, Fred”. If you don’t know my name, of have forgotten it, a simple “Hi, who am I talking to?” will do very nicely, thank you.
Do not address me with a “Hi, there”. It’s just rude. It’s like those nameless, faceless, brainless people who call to sell you something. You pick up the phone and say “Hi, Fred speaking”. To which they reply, “Hello, how are you”. To which I say, “My name is not Howareyou, my name is Fred. What is your name?”
Go right ahead and address this geezer with a "Hi, there"... but don't try it on me!
What happened to the common decency of “Hello, my name is Jane from the Tryingtoflogyousomething Marketing company, how do I address you, Sir?” or, if that sounds a bit too like it belongs to a more civilised age, then “Hello, to whom am I speaking, please?”
Is that asking too much? Is that asking too much of somebody whose sole purpose in calling you – or e-mailing you – is to try to manipulate you into buying or doing something that you are not necessarily predisposed towards buying or doing? No, I will not even want to hear about what it is you want me to buy or do if you call me “There” or “Howareyou”.
Do you feel the same about this? Or is it just me? Oh, you do. Then I wonder how many calls and e-mails are being wasted by countless companies which don’t bother to train their cold-callers to try to find out our names before they ask how we are? Because I now put the phone down on them. Every time. I might be missing out on free round-the-world cruises but I don’t care. No name, or no enquiry for a name, and it’s phone call over.
But, for me, it gets even worse. I have people to whom I have been introduced who, when I next see them, say “Hi, there”. OK, so nobody is more capable than me when it comes to forgetting names. I can be introduced to somebody and my pea-brain is so inundated with messages about what this person’s eyes are telling me, what their body language is saying and assessing whether the fact that their eyebrows meet in the middle means I should turn and run for it that, by the time I’ve looked at their shoes for confirmation and looked up again, I’ve forgotten their name.
I know. It’s poor form. I’m terrible like that. It is absolutely stunning how quickly Tamsin becomes Tarryn, Tamlyn becomes Tamsyn or, to be completely truthful, Tarryn somehow morphs into Hortensia. It’s abysmal. But, when I next speak to that person, I will apologise for the misfiring of my synapses and ask them to remind me of their name. No problemo.
But what I will not accept is my name being changed to “There”. It’s just not on. So there.
