I have only one (1) word to say about Sam* and Marjorie:
- They are the spawn of the Devil himself….
- They are both inveterate liars
- They have never been seen together, all at the same time, with the Devil….so they may not be the spawn of the devil but the actual Devil himself in female and male form.
- They are both hermaphrodites (Sam wear’s a girl’s haircut and Marjorie wears a boy’s haircut–what more proof do you need?)
- They both enjoy taunting and torturing an 84-year-old woman who really wants to see family pictures and talks about it on a daily basis
- They both better “Get ‘er done” in the following ways: a) Marjorie (if that is her real name): Please get the photos formatted and edited as you like and post them on Shutterfly or some other web service for photos and tell us how to access them. Please put two (2) CD’s in the USPS to me at my address with the formatted pictures on them. b) Sam (if that is his real name): Please put the photos (already editted [sic] and formatted on to some web site that the Smith/Jones* families can be directed to in order to see the work product from Sears.
- Marjorie likes to destroy hardwood floors and then not get her commitments done in terms of getting photos ready.
(*Obviously, Sam is a pseudonym, as are Smith and Jones.)
Have you ever woken up in the morning feeling more than just a little blah? I mean, the sunlight is warming up your room, you’re healthy, well-fed, had eight hours of sleep, and you’re snuggled comfortably under layers of the softest sheets and the coziest comforter, and yet…you still feel a little depressed, maybe even a little weepy, with just a shade of the mean reds? You can’t quite put your finger on any one reason in particular — husband’s out of town, assignments/job prospects not quite panning out as quickly as you’d like, too much fast food and/or wine the night before, the weight’s not coming off at all, whatever — but you just know that the morning isn’t starting out as well as it logically should, given that you’re not, say, a woman living in a mud hut in the Congo?
So that was my morning on Thursday. And then I woke up to the email above, from a good friend I’ve known for seven years.
Back story: As a favor, B. and I spent a couple of hours at his home to shoot photos of him with his large, extended family. We used to be professional photographers and still have all of our equipment, including the studio lighting, and were happy to do this for him for free. I told him that I would have the finished photos uploaded to a service like Shutterfly last weekend, but the time flew by, we were super busy, and, well, long story short, I still haven’t been able to work on the photographs. (We took about 60.) They need to be downloaded to my computer, reformatted from the original RAW file (the raw, pixel information of the digital image, equivalent to a print negative) to workable JPEGs, cleaned up on Photoshop, saved to CD’s, organized, and uploaded on Shutterfly. I estimate that all the post-production work will take about three hours, maybe more, but certainly not less. I don’t mind the work, but I really don’t think I can get to it until the weekend.
(Note: Sam is another recipient of this email who apparently has let down our mutual friend. And by the way, the entire email was sent not only to me and Sam, but to just about everyone in his extended family. The “hardwood floors” crack refers to the fact that I had scratched his floor when I moved the couch for the family to sit on during the photo shoot — which I told him I would do beforehand and he had approved.)
Reading the message was an exercise in restraint. In her excellent book, French Toast: An American in Paris Celebrates the Maddening Mysteries of the French
What is vache, you ask? Allow me to quote the wonderful Mrs. Rochefort:
If you live in France for any length of time, you need to cultivate the art of being vache. Vache (yes, it means “cow!”) is a word that encompasses the concepts of petty, mean, spiteful. [...] Even being vache is subtle. It is knowing how to utter that little phrase that can be interpreted however one wants. It is knowing how to send the dart without being transparently offensive. (Emphasis mine.)
Perhaps I’m mistaken but it appears that mon ami does not know how to be vache. Au contraire, in the above example he may actually be acting like un idiot. But how to respond in such as way so as to be vache myself?
Seeing as my favorite French actress is Charlotte Gainsbourg, and she represents everything that I consider good and authentic and meaningful about French culture and French women, then what would Charlotte do? I’m perplexed, not to mention hurt and angry. I haven’t answered the email, nor have I returned his phone calls. I still intend to do the work and send them off to him, but at this point I’m still reeling from the shock of opening such a cruel and insulting and humiliating email and am unsure how to respond, or even if I should.
What would Charlotte do? What would you do?
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{ 7 comments }
Well this person would hate my husband, then…he NEVER gets photos edited and up in a timely manner. I think it took almost a year for him to get our wedding photos up. My mother-in-law nearly died in anticipation.
Seriously, this person seems more than a little imbalanced.
My oh my, I wouldn't have showed as much restraint as it seems you have. Also how have you been, sorry that I haven't gotten back to you about rescheduling.
Marjorie,
I sent an email to you but I also left a comment here. Must've disappeared. But I echo my email & a person above: there's something seriously disturbed about the communication–along with insult. I recommend you speak with someone in their family. Something is very off here. I'm so sorry that this happened.
xoSusan
You are doing this for free and this person sends you something so nasty?
Honestly, I'd copy the raw files to a CD and mail it to him. Forget the rest. He won't be grateful even if you do the rest of the work.
The jerk obviously has no idea how long it takes to convert images and retouch and upload. You are doing him a favor, and he has no right to treat you that way. I don't care if it took you three months–that's the deal when it's FREE. People have to do the work that PAYS MONEY first, and freebies and favors come second.
What would I do?
I wouldn't do anything. Nothing. And that includes sending/doing anything with the photos.
You kind of imply in your post that this may be the persons (failed) attempt to be witty. But with friends like this, who needs enemies?
Julia
That email sounds snarky and downright rude. I wouldn't call that person a good friend. And they probably wouldn't be a friend of any sort much longer. I mean, really, you did the photographs for free and devoted your valuable time. If they wanted immediate professional photographs, they should have paid someone.
I would be sorely tempted to do like the brown-eyed grrl suggested above and send the pictures in raw format.
But I like to keep my promises to the best of my abilities. So I would probably buckle down and get the photographs edited and uploaded. Then I would terminate that friendship posthaste. (Or at least cool off the friendship considerably.)
What does your husband say about this email?
Dear J, bonjour and thanks for the comment!
You know, it's funny that you should say that. We've been married for six years, and we have yet to put together our wedding album. Everything's still on CD's, waiting to be printed and organized. And that's despite the fact that we had our own wedding photography business! We've decided that this is the Christmas in which our mothers will finally get their albums. As they keep reminding us, they're not getting any younger.
Dear Bobby Janay, no worries! Just let me know when you're available. You're a mom, of course you're busy!
And it's easier to show restraint when it's by email. I think the shock was so great on my part that I really couldn't respond anyway. I was speechless.
Dear Susan, bonjour!! I got your email and will respond. Actually, the person who wrote this email is a very healthy (relatively speaking) man in his forties — the "84-year-old woman" he's referring to is his mother. There's really no one to speak to about my friend's behavior. He's just very good at playing at being a real jerk.
Dear brown-eyed grrl, that's what I keep going over and over in my head. It's like, Wait, he's not paying for this, right? Did I forget something here? I mean, he had offered to pay but I had insisted that he not, that all we wanted was maybe dinner at a Middle Eastern restaurant with good falafel. I'm still stunned.
I mailed the CD this morning with not only the raw files but the finished photos as well. I wouldn't have felt right not doing the work I'd promised. I did not respond to any of the emails, however. I just didn't know what to say, especially since his entire extended family was reading everything.
Dear Anonymous, yes, my friend prides himself on his "wit" and sense of humor. I've told him many times that what he thinks is sarcasm usually doesn't go off very well and that he sounds like an arrogant jerk, but he doesn't listen.
Dear Julie, bonjour! I did think briefly about not doing the work, but not very seriously. I knew I would do it. I enjoy doing post-production, but more importantly, I just couldn't not hold up my end of the bargain. Even though I did this as a favor and not as a paid professional, it still reflects on my work.
What did B. say when he read the email exchange? That our friend is an "ass" and other choice words. Ironically, the guy invited him to lunch this weekend; he sent me a text about it to extend the invitation to B., but we both ignored it. Indeed, our friend texted me twice, emailed me three times, and called me three times, but I ignored them all. And B. has effectively terminated that friendship as well. It hasn't been pleasant for either of us.
Merci for the comments!
Salut,
Marjorie
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