This article first appeared in Personal Wealth, The Edge Malaysia Weekly on March 27, 2017 - April 2, 2017

Recently, I did not buy something I had wanted to buy because the salesperson sent me an email riddled with grammatical errors. Now, never mind that she was annoying, that she refused to get off the phone for what seemed like hours, that she was intent on selling me something that was not exactly what I wanted. What really got under my skin was the badly written email.

You may think that I am splitting hairs, but this person worked for a publishing company. How was I to trust the company if one of its employees was (and probably still is) barely literate? 

Also, this was the first time I had come across a company in this field that employs multi-level marketing tactics. I could almost hear the trainers shrieking like a cheerleader: “Never, never, never give up!” or “What does not kill you only makes you stronger!” or “Every adversity carries with it the seed of an equivalent or greater benefit.” 

I have no problem with any of these sayings. In fact, I employ them myself when I am not in the mood to work, am late for a deadline, or rushing a story and all I want to do is just go home, watch an inane comedy (think 

Zoolander or Dude, Where’s My Car?) and turn off my brain. But I hate to be on the receiving end of all this persistence. I hate feeling compelled to buy something I cannot afford and can sort of live without.

Compulsion does not work, people. Not all the time. And then, too, not forever. Eventually, people will cotton on to your hard-sell sales tactics, refuse to answer your calls and (if you are smart enough to cloak your phone number) hang up as soon as they hear your voice. I mean, that is what I would do. You have a job to do, I know. But I do not have the time or patience. And if you are not prepared to give me what I want, why on earth do I have to be guilted into listening to a sales pitch that goes on forever?

Even worse are “relationship managers” (seriously?) who try to establish a deep and personal connection with you in half an hour by retailing their own painful and personal experience of not doing the thing they wanted to do most (the thing they want you to put down your hard-earned cash for — “Don’t worry, you can pay in instalments, not a problem”).

So, you wanted to be a writer? Really? How am I supposed to believe that when even a simple email is beyond you? Congruence matters. When you are talking to a journalist, just remember that they are cross-referencing everything you say. Not consciously, of course. It is something that happens automatically. So, pity the fool who stumbles. Pity the fool who falls.

Times are hard, no doubt. You can tell by the fact that property developers who set up booths at shopping centres are now employing people to 

actively canvass shoppers. Previously, they would sit there and look supercilious when you went up to ask questions. “Already 80% sold,” they would say, as they examined their fingernails, while you looked sheepish and apologised for disturbing them.

But if times are really that hard, you will have to treat every enquiry that lands on your website as a “die die must close!” kind of deal, then get creative. Customise. Give me what I want. And take out all the fluff that I do not want which you have just lathered on to bump up the price. Also, learn to write proper emails that do not set my teeth on edge with your screeching errors.

Then maybe, just maybe, I will not feel compelled to hang up on you.

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