You aren’t going to find me referring to Bob Dylan songs very often
in this column, not only because I think the cat is overrated, but
because I can’t stand it when people refer to songs rather than to
explain the thing (whatever it is they’re trying to explain).
Nevertheless, I suggest you all have a listen to a not-very-well known
Dylan composition entitled “Everything is Broken” — not simply because
it has to do with the topic of this week’s column, but because it’s
really the most accurate description of our world today.
Whew! Heavy stuff, eh?
But I’m serious, man. Everything really is broken!
No doubt, living in a foreign country has brought this fact to the
forefront of my overworked little cranium. Be that as it may, that one
single sentiment — nothing works — seems, day by day, to be applying
itself to, well, everything.
Do I need to be specific?
OK, fine.
The mail doesn’t come on time; your computer blows up 23 times in a
week, and the idiots that are trying to fix it break it even worse; your
accountant sends money to the wrong American Express account, causing
you to have to stop payment on a check, thus causing American Express to
cancel your credit card (for non-payment of funds); the pharmacy fills
your scrip for Vicodin with Lomotil. …
Ah, you get the idea, I’m sure.
Actually, this list would lend itself more correctly to the heading:
people are incompetent. Which is, I suppose, what I’m truly
saying here. Sure — things break. Hell, they’re designed to
break, so we have to buy more. No biggie. It’s always been like that and
always will be.
But lack of competence — mere competence to do one’s job! — that
has been something that’s been sneaking up on us for, well, I’m not sure
how long. Whatever the case, the result of this insidious disease is
that perhaps 90 percent of the people who are doing various jobs are
totally incompetent, inept and incapable of doing whatever it is they’re
being paid to do!
A daunting thought, to say the least — just look around.
There are two subjects to tackle here. One is, how did this state of
worldwide incompetence arrive, and, two, what the heck do you do about
it? I think the second is more important than the first.
What I normally do, when I’m dealing with some dolt who can barely
speak English, is utter the phrase: “Let me speak to your supervisor.”
The dolts don’t like this. Neither, in fact, do their superiors, who
are, in fact, almost always dolts themselves. But the superior dolts are
a bit more anxious to pay attention to your complaint, in that they’re
conscious of the fact that unless the thing — whatever it is — gets
remedied, they’re gonna lose some brownie points, or maybe even get
canned.
So the first rule of thumb when dealing with incompetency is always
ask for “the superior.” And if that guy
turns out to be a complete idiot, you ask for his superior …
and onwards up the ladder. Ultimately you will, if you’re persistent
enough, reach somebody who not only is able to help you, but seems
(gasp) actually willing to do so.
See, the bottom-level dolt’s job is simply to get rid of you. He’s
got other calls to answer. That’s why they get the guys that can’t speak
English — because they know that half the time you’ll hang up on them
out of sheer frustration. Oh yeah, I’m sure it’s a conspiracy of some
sort.
Anyhow, you get the idea. This method works better, by the way, on the
telephone than it does in person. In fact, I suggest that you do as many
of your transactions on the phone as possible. If you wind up getting a
computer (you will, in most all cases) just keep punching the 0 or the
star button until a human comes online. They’re there somewhere, hiding
behind those little computers, so don’t give up.
As for attitude, my suggestion is be “nice” but firm. If someone
asks, “do you mind if I put you on hold?” tell them “yes, I mind.” And
you’d better do it quick before they punch that button, lest you find
yourself listening to some horrible music for the next half hour.
Also, be sure and ask the person you are speaking with for their
name. In almost all cases, they’ll only give you their fist name. “Jane
what?” you ask, insistently. “Ah, well, we’re not allowed to give out
that information,” Jane No Name will usually say. At that point you can
either resort to being “not nice” or ask to speak to Miss Jane No Name’s
superior (whereupon she will usually give you her last name).
Companies have taken this measure, of course, to make it more
difficult for you to make your way back up the muck of red tape it takes
to get real answers out of real people. So you have to learn to
cut them off at the quick.
You’ll be able to tell when you finally reach someone with actual
power to handle your situation, as they not only will have both a first
name and a last name, but they will likely refer to you as
“Mister” or “Miss,” as the case may be.
Never talk to people with only one name!
Ah, sadly, we seem to be running out of time here. But never fear
mateys, we’ll continue with this subject next week, wherein yours truly
will give you more methods of dealing with the people that live in
Idiotland.
Just for the record, there seem to be “slightly” less of those Idiots
here in France … or perhaps it’s simply that they haven’t trained the
French as well in incompetence yet (rudeness, yes … incompetence, no).
Just a couple of quick notes here — which is, in true Goldman
tradition, in the area of self-hype. As we speak, the “green light” has
just been given to set the cameras rolling on “Spy Vs. Spies” — based
upon my investigation of the tabloid industry. The film, directed by
Oliver Stone, is being released by Phoenix Films.
When will it be in the theatres, people ask?
Gimme a break! These guys haven’t returned my phone calls since I
made the sale two years ago. I only found this out through a
super-dooper top-secret insider snitch informant.
As for when the thing will actually show up — hey, I’ll believe it
when I see it.
