Today, I had a meeting at Chili's with a new client (Chili's is the new golf course). As per my usual modus operandi, I dropped Zoey off at her Granny's house. Zed and I went to the meeting hoping things would turn out better than the meeting with one of my previous clients.
Mr. Jones arrived at Chili's at 1:00 PM. We talked about my kids, his kids, football, the weather, and all that getting-to-know-you crap before we got down to business. He opened the meeting with the following words:
"I'd like a lot of bells and whistles on my site."
A little part of me dies every time I hear those words. See, I know this is businessmanspeak for tacky. I let them tell me what they want and then I tell them what they should want. I usually spend the next ten to fifteen minutes trying to deprogram my client, often citing Amazon, Google, or Yahoo as examples of good business practices, usability, and design. Most of the time it doesn't work. Since the customer's always right, I create a web site based on my client's specifications (I do all the backend stuff (get your mind out of the gutter!) and have a designer create all my graphics), cash the check, and go about my merry way. Then three months later, I redesign the web site after the client has realized no one wants to use the site because it's so gaudy. I get paid twice. If only they would listen to me.
"What would you like on your site?" I nervously asked.
"When someone clicks on a button, I want you to hear a little click noise." A click noise? Dude, the only noise you want your web site to make is cha-ching (Get it? Like a cash register? God, I crack myself up sometimes.).
It was at this point Zed threw his pacifier on the floor and began crying. I felt like joining him. I gave him a toy while I picked up his pacifier. He immediately threw the toy on the floor as well. T-minus ninety seconds and counting until we have a full-blown tantrum!
"Anything else?"
"I want a lot of spinning graphics." This was when I realized this man hadn't seen a web site since 1997. Zed's cries became noticeably LOUDER. T-minus forty-five seconds...
"Ok. Anything else?"
"My son says I need a blog on my site."
The hell? Dude, you're selling mufflers! What are you going to write about? Today I changed 23 mufflers. Yesterday I changed 29 mufflers. While you're at it, MABee u caN wrITE YoUr sTuFF LYK dis! That woOD B Soooo KEWL!
Two quick questions:
- Who would want to read a blog about mufflers? I can't get people to read this blog. And my kids do funny things!
- Who takes business advice from their fourteen-year-old son? This moron must get his stock tips from the pizza delivery guy.
So I sat him on my lap. He continued screaming, only now he had a new array of things to throw on the floor. He grabbed my fork. Floor! He grabbed my spoon. Floor! He reached for my plate, but I stopped him before it could join the fork and spoon. He began screaming even louder (you might have actually heard him yourself) because now he was mad at me as well.
At this point, I would not have been surprised if his head had started spinning around while pea soup spewed forth from his mouth. It was that bad. It was beginning to feel like those old Folgers Crystals commercials: "We've secretly replaced Chag's son Zed with a demon baby. Let's see if he notices." Actually, I wish they had replaced him with a bag of Folgers Crystals. Coffee doesn't cry.
I don't remember much from the rest of the meeting. I seem to recall something about a talking muffler mascot named Muffly. Whatever floats your boat.
But hey, at least Zoey wasn't along for the ride. She would have only contributed to the chaotic atmosphere by jumping up and down in the booth like a chimpanzee in heat.
GHS: 10
