It’s me!

This entry was published at least two years ago (originally posted on August 10, 2004). Since that time the information may have become outdated or my beliefs may have changed (in general, assume a more open and liberal current viewpoint). A fuller disclaimer is available.

(Note: while this did happen to me tonight, this rant isn’t particularly aimed at any one person, as I’ve had it happen to me off and on from many different people over the years. Don’t take it personally — but if it sounds like I could be talking to you, than it might be worth taking to heart.)

Oh, screw off.

Look, it’s bad enough when people do this to me at home, but for god’s sake, if for any reason you find it necessary to call me at work, would you please just tell me your damn name? I don’t know if you think it’s cute, or are just severely overestimating my ability to identify your particular voice based solely upon the words “hello” and “it’s me” (often also having to compensate for the distortion of miniscule cell phone microphones), but this little game is really not appreciated.

Working in a public business, I could have any number of people calling me at any given point, from customers to co-workers to people far higher up on the corporate totem pole than I am, and having to stand there and rack my brain, desperately trying to pinpoint who I’m talking to (while trying not to look like a complete and total idiot to the customers waiting for my attention in the store) does nothing aside from annoy me.

Names, people. Simple courtesy. This shouldn’t be an issue.