Dialed customer service tonight, the dreaded call that is something like spinning the globe to see what country lands under my index finger. When someone answers with awkward English and a corresponding unlikely name like Ashley or Justin, my patience drops precipitously.
Tonight, the guy’s English was good with a little New York-ese sprinkled in. He didn’t give a name, but sounded like he was off-shore. He was helpful. We got through most of the details needed to solve my problem. He asked for my email. It’s related to this domain name, marygunderson.com. He stopped and said, “How did you get that? It’s your name!” There was wonder in his voice.
“I got the domain name.”
“I registered it. Where are you?”
“OK,” I paused, imagining the miles in between. “Here’s how to do it. It’s a brave new world and Egypt is one of the best examples.”
“Don’t make fun of my country,” he said, not unkindly.
“Oh, no, I’m not making fun of you or your country. I wish you all well and a government that works for everyone in Egypt.”
“Yes,” he said, quietly, wistfully. “Yes.”
I gave him the url of my domain registration site. “Search your name and see if you can register it. Then, get a web host and you’re on.”
There was a moment of silence.
“Huh.” More wonder and a bit of delight.
We finished the work at hand. He had solved my problem, his English was excellent, the protesters in Cairo’s Tahir Square seemed close to me here on a subzero Farenheit northern winter evening. I promised him an excellent rating when I received the customer service evaluation email.
Wish I’d asked for his favorite Egyptian recipe.