I am Not a Dude
This afternoon, I had planned to teach a lesson on professionalism while communicating with others. Less than two hours before I was to teach, I received telephone call. When I answered the phone, the background noise was so loud that I could barely understand the person talking to me. All I could make out was that he ended his comment by referring to me as “Dude.”
It turned out that this was not a wrong number as I initially thought. It was an inarticulate serviceman from Bright House calling to tell me that he could not do his job at my home because there was a dog in the back yard; a thirteen year old dog crippled with arthritis who was in the yard with my partner. During two additional phone calls, the serviceman was rude and I have taken up the issue with customer service at Bright House.
At 54, I am stuffy enough that I don’t care to do business with someone who is comfortable calling me “Dude.” Dr. Berg is nice. Mr. Berg is acceptable in social situations. Steve is fine among friends. But I am not a “Dude;” especially when I am being addressed in what should have been a professional situation.
On the bright side of a less than bright exchange with someone representing Bright House, the serviceman did give me an excellent case study to use as an example during today’s class.