Think of this as the business-practices version of What Not To Wear, with me as both Trinny and Susannah1.
Say there’s a business that offers two basically similar but functionally quite different services, like, say, a daycare center, that also offers in-home babysitting. And you probably only need one of them — like, say, you want your kid to be able to play with other kids, so you want the daycare thing.
So you call up this company — let’s call them, oh, say, VIP Childcare — and say “I’d like to find out about getting my kid into your daycare one day next week. I’m having a function at my house and my kid wouldn’t be comfortable in this gathering.” Or, rather, you say it to their voicemail, which is fine, really2, and then you get a call back the next day from a woman who sounds harried and flustered and not very well-spoken and you think, well, she’s just having A Day, happens to all of us, I am cutting the slack here.
And the woman — let’s call her, say, Trixie — says, “Right, daycare, totally. Probably not a problem. Can I call you back in an hour or so, though, ’cause I was just running out the damn door3 when the phone rang, and we can talk more about it.”
And you say, “Sure, no problem. Look forward to hearing from you.”
And half a day passes with nary a peep from VIP Childcare, and you say to yourself, “Y’know, the hell with this. I’ll find another place.” And you do, and you feel pretty good about your choice (which is closer, staffed by nice people who answer the phone and all your questions and appear to have all the time in the world to talk to you).
And then, the next day, you get a voicemail that blows your fucking mind.
“Hi, this is Dick4 from VIP Childcare, don’t know why my wife Trixie didn’t tell you this yesterday, but we don’t do daycare right now, just in-home babysitting, which obviously won’t work for your function, unless you want Trixie at your function …”
… at which point you stab the Delete Message button in a rage and wonder how the fuck you “forget” you don’t have kids in your fucking facility all day long.
Because really? You don’t forget that, unless you’re on fucking drugs, or are psychotic, or have “episodes” or something, none of which makes me feel good about you getting within a fucking mile of my kid.
In other news, I have a list of dog-boarding places in the East Valley you should avoid at all costs.
1 I’m aware that there’s an American version of this show; I’ve not seen it, I’m sure it’s horrible, and we will not speak of it. Also, I won’t be grabbing anyone’s boobs.
2 Or would be if you hadn’t already emailed them four or five days ago about the same thing and didn’t get a reply, but that’s a rant for another day.
3 Seriously.
4 Not his real name.