Hello? Hello? Anyone home? Says right here in Google that you have a website and even a Facebook page. The lights are on but no one’s home. Drives me crazy!!!! I’m surfing to find a plumber because my faucet needs to be fixed NOW. And I want to check out the website of a nearby yoga studio.
But when I go to the fix-that-flood-now-dot-com I find there’s no one to contact. Truth be told, I wasn’t going to fix it myself but googling how-to will lead me to someone who will fix it for me. There’s a few pics, a logo, and a mailing address. A MAILING ADDRESS. Yes, I’m shouting.
Oh, sure, let me run out to the post office, tomorrow, when it opens, buy a stamp, write the plumber a letter, find a mailbox. Make my way back home and splash through the water on my kitchen floor. Then check the mail box every day for a response.
The fact is, no one is home on that website even though the lights are on .It was created to say they have a website. It does nothing except show me a picture of the plumber (not waiting by his mailbox) and a logo. Whippty Do!
So for relaxation and to relieve the stress, I’m going to take that yoga class in the nearby studio. I see people going in there every day with their Lululemon leggings on and long, narrow bags strapped across their bodies. So it’s happening over there right now. I know it is. I look for them on Facebook because both yoga and Facebook are kind of in vogue so they must have a Facebook page.
Click. Click. Click. Yup. There’s the page. OMG – they only have 57 ‘likes’. That can’t be a lot in a town of 20K people, can it? I got 81 likes when I posted a picture of my runaway macaroon cookie disaster last December (I’m adding the picture here for a smile).
Ah, I will just send a message to ask if they have an evening class and where can I find the full schedule. It’s 2 p.m. I will hear back in time to get ready and make my way to the class. All this direct messaging, tweeting, texting, whatever…it’s instant and it eliminates my need for a phone. Surely I’m not going to have to CALL someone and talk to them about the schedule, am I?
And then zzzzzzz. My phone buzzes: “We have gentle yoga at 6 pm tonight. $12 drop-in fee. Full schedule attached.” Ahhh, thank you yoga Acharya. I am starting to relax now. I’m glad I don’t have to wear my socks at the yoga class – they’re wet from the leaky faucet disaster.