Please note that you may have been redirected (you might like to make a note of the URL in the address bar of your browser and update accordingly) This is a permanent archvie but is no longer actively maintained. Please visit http://joshuaink.com for the latest updates.
How to impress a client
Wednesday March 22, 2006
A couple of years ago a woman was stood by me in the queue at the fish and chip shop and started talking to me in a friendly, enthusiastic manner; I did not have a clue who the hell she was, I recognised her but I didn’t know why, I couldn’t put a place or a name to the face. She could quite clearly tell I didn’t know who the hell she was.
The missus was waiting outside in the car and when I told her about it, she told me that I worked with the woman. This was a place of maybe a dozen employees too, so not exactly a lot of people to remember.
This is not the first time it’s happened either; I think I have people dyslexia. Take a person I know reasonably well through work out of the work place and into a different setting and I won’t know them from Adam.
So last night I nipped out to the supermarket for some things and I saw a face I knew. I knew straight away that I knew this person well enough that the conversation should be fairly upbeat, that I knew something of his job but did I know who it was, did I hell. Panic set in.
For a very brief moment I thought it might be Joe Clarke. Having only ever seen photos of Joe I figured maybe that’s why I recognised the face. But no, what the hell would Joe Clarke be doing in an English supermarket in a tiny Cotswold town at 9pm on a Tuesday night? Idiot… think!
On inspecting Joe’s photo this morning it is also worth noting they don’t really look alike at all; it was the panic that had me grappling for any answer no matter how unlikley, but I digress.
I resolved to move fast, to get to the checkout quick and avoid a confrontation when it became apparent I was making no progress but it wasn’t to be, there I was at the checkout with a face I knew but yet I couldn’t ask how this that and the other was going. Arghhh!
I thoroughly failed to bullshit my way out of it convincingly, it must have been glaringly obvious that I did not know who this guy was, yet I recognised his face, think idiot! I paid for my goods and left the shop as quick as I could.
The minute I was removed from the situation, as my foot hit the street outside, I remembered who it was, a client! Not just a client from the past either, a current client, a client I am doing work for, d’oh!
But that was the thing I had only ever met with him at his place of work, and out of context, here in the supermarket I was faced with my people dyslexia, nightmare! That’ll teach me to go outside.
