In our house, we’ve always held fast to a very few basic rules. Of these, Rule Number One is the most sacred. From the time the boys were tiny, snuggly, and adorable, and the girls were awkward teenagers, to now (the boys are 6’5” and 6” and smelly, the girls all three beautiful and successful), our kids have this one nailed. If you ask any one of them (and either of our sons-in-law, I’d bet $10) “What’s Rule Number One?” They will tell you:
“DON’T BE A DOUCHE!!!”
Imagine, for a moment, these cute little guys hollering that at the top of their lungs:
Rule Number One sums it up: all Ten Commandments and the Golden Rule, rolled up into one tidy sound bite. Don’t be a douche.
(Rule #2 is only slightly less popular: “Is it yours? No? Then don’t f### with it.” And #3 is kind of a corollary of #2, coming from our combined 34 years of emergency medicine: “if it’s wet, and it’s not yours, don’t touch it.” Which, come to think of it, is pretty good COVID advice too. But anyhow.)
Every so often you run into somebody who seems to have missed all forms of Rule Number One along the way - and just can’t figure out how not to be a douche. You know the kind I’m talking about. People who use passive voice when talking about themselves, people who talk about themselves in the third person. People who don’t get the zipper rule of merging traffic. Those who tell you over and over how honorable they are. People who say idiotic things like “for all intensive purposes,” “irregardless,” “I could care less,” “global pandemic,” and “in these uncertain times.” People who manage to piss off everyone they come in contact with and yet still play the victim card: the whiners of the world.
Well, here in the friendly confines of FrogSacks, it sometimes seems a little more than every so often. Read on, and maybe be entertained by some of the goofballs and mouth-breathers we deal with.
“It’s been 3 days, where’s my order?”
Um, it’s been ONE business day - and every so often we spend a weekend doing non-Frogsacks things. Like laundry. Yardwork. Oh, I dunno, vacuuming up the softball-size dust-and-pug-hair-balls that breed under the couches. Sometimes we get crazy and sleep in till 8. But we work hard enough during the week that we don’t feel even a little bit guilty when we jump on the bike and go for a ride - and your Friday evening order is just not gonna go out till Tuesday. Period.
“I haven’t received any order status updates, when can I expect my order?”
“Has my order shipped yet?”
We get emails like this so often - with absolutely no polite lead-in. If I have to send an email to check on an order somewhere, I’ll usually start like this:
“I’m so sorry to bother you, I just wondered if by chance you might be able to give me an idea of when my order might ship...” But these people. I have no idea what makes them think it’s okay to just blurt out a rude and pushy question. Most days, we shake our heads and count to ten and compose a civil reply. But after a handful of less-than-pleasant exchanges with somebody, they’ll get a different answer. Something like “We’re sorry we can’t meet your service expectations; we have fully refunded your money and encourage you to buy your gear from another vendor.” (Generally, there isn’t another vendor for that particular thing.) People are stunned by this response, because their entitled mindset comes from being told the customer is always right, we’re here to serve you, blah blah blah, which they think means “we’ll kiss your butt in exchange for your business.” Well, not here. We appreciate all our customers, and we pride ourselves on our quality, our quick turnaround times, and our awesome customer service. But if you’re gonna be a turd, we don’t need your money.
We think there’s something a little strange (and a little stalky) about somebody driving three hours in the middle of the night just to find where the shop is. But to have that person tell us after the fact that Google Maps gave him bad directions because “there’s an exit 36 and an exit 38 but there is no exit 37...” Well, I happen to know with 100% certainty that there is an exit 37, so that means you were on the wrong dang highway, chief. Better luck next time - in broad daylight maybe.
We’re not going to participate in your customs fraud, or your insurance fraud, or any other kind of fraudy douchebaggery.
Please don’t ask us to understate the value of stuff we’re sending from our country to yours, or to mark the shipment as a gift. We pay a boatload of taxes and tariffs and import duties on stuff we get from other countries, because that’s how it works. Thereby and forthwith, so can you.
If you ask us to create a comprehensive ‘shopping list’ with prices for an entire impression, whether for insurance replacement or your snot-nosed friggin’ kid’s Christmas present or your career goals or your great aunt Ethel who wants to build a shrine in her living room, or whatever the hell else, we are likely going to give you the benefit of the doubt and create said list. That benefit of the doubt includes the general presumption that you plan on purchasing at least some of those items from us, which is what makes it worth the time involved in creating the list. Once in a while that happens, though usually it involves an extended payment arrangement or the expectation that we’re willing to set aside stock for months on end. Only once so far has a ‘shopping list’ purchaser turned out to be well and truly psycho. But for the most part the lists seem to serve as little more than a free appraisal, and that’s horseshit. You’re welcome. And you can order your stuff on the website like everyone else.
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There are so many more stories... but only so many I can process at once. More to come.