I experienced a little change of pace on Friday.
After doing 2 news stories and updating the tour dates page, Alex– this Austrailian guy a few cubicles away who seems pretty busy all of the time– came over and told me about GR’s upcoming Israeli issue. He asked if I could do some research on some top Israeli restaurants and venues in New York and Los Angeles, and everywhere in between. Email contacts, he said, were essential.
So I started a spreadsheet and found a plethora of restaurants which served Israeli food, as requested. I proceeded to call the numbers the restaurants’ websites provided, and that’s when all hell broke loose.
The first place had no email address, apparently. I thought that was a bit strange. The second told me they’d have the manager call me back in an hour. Considering all I wanted was an email address, I thought that strange as well. This guy from one restaurant interrupted my self-introduction with a “Thank you BYE” and hung up on me, leaving me a bit miffed, while this woman from another restaurant just kept repeating the word “NO” over and over again.
“No? No as in you don’t have an email address or no as in you don’t want to be featured in our magazine?” I asked the woman.
“NO. NONONONO. NO!” The woman said before hanging up on me.
The aforementioned manager called me back after an hour, as promised, and asked me a few questions about GR and where it was located, what it was about, etc. He said his restaurant had New York’s best falafel and was really nice about everything, so I hope his place makes it into the magazine.
I emailed the finished spreadsheet to Alex, vowing to treat telemarketers with more empathy in the future.