Unpacking a favor


Last night I was chatting with a friend (who shall remain nameless) over IM. He told me a small group was going to meet for dinner and invited me to come meet them there at 8:30 pm. I asked him what time he would be showing up, and he said 8:30. “Really?” I asked. Because as much as I like this friend (and it is a lot), in the entire 5 months I have been in New York and through the many times we have met up, he is never on time unless I am meeting him at his house. He told me that yes he would be there at 8:30 and balked a bit when I suggested that he was never on time. He assured me that he had never missed a flight. “Great,”, I said, “so what you are telling me is that airlines are more important to you than friends.” I explained to him that I didn’t care one bit what time we agreed to meet. I only cared that whatever that time was, we would be there per our commitment. Why was it ok to always make people wait an average of 15 minutes extra for you? I explained that to me it was quite rude, a way of saying to the other person that their time wasn’t as valuable as yours.

This apparently touched a nerve in him, causing him to search his memory for any “rude” thing I may have done to him in the past. What he hit upon was quite a surprise to me.

About 4 months ago, in an email, he asked if I could do his company a “favor” and translate a brochure into French. He asked me to estimate how long it would take and if I had the time to do it. Being that I had just arrived in New York and was quite broke, I assumed it was a potential contract for work, so I calculated the number of hours it would take me to do it (about 3) and sent him an estimate for the work, thanking him for thinking of me. I never heard back from him and had forgotten about the entire thing.

That is, until he brought it up last night. Apparently, I was being “rude” for not doing this work for his business for free. And then he told me it really didn’t matter at all, he had completely “let it drop”.

“Oh really, then why bring it up now?” I asked. “Clearly this is something that has been bothering you.” And being irked I suppose at being called on being late had jogged his memory of a perceived slight. I was fascinated.

“What else should I be doing as a favor for your business?” I asked. “Free web site design?”  He said he would never ask me to do free web design. So why was the translation work different? Perhaps he thought it was a 5 minute job or something (which if it was, I probably would have done it for free), but I clearly wrote in the email that I thought it would take me 3 hours. Perhaps, knowing how I love the French language, he just thought it would be “fun” for me? I asked under what circumstances I should rely on his professional services for free? No information of that type was forthcoming. The best I got from him was “Anything within reason.” Which is funny, since that is a completely subjective measure.

I told him there were any number of personal things I would do for him, such as watching his apt, bringing in mail, walking his dog if necessary, talking him up to friends, bringing him chicken soup when sick, etc. Ultimately, I suppose it (very roughly) comes down to the following: If it is personal, I am willing to do a lot. If it is something for your business (ie something you will make money on) you should probably be willing to pay for it in some fashion. If for example, he had needed help with understanding a french tourist brochure or visa application for a trip I would have been more than happy to spend a few minutes explaining it to him. But to translate a brochure for selling his product? It never occurred to me that this would be the kind of thing someone would ask a friend to do for free, without so much as a “I’ll buy you dinner” offer. And if somehow the fee I asked for this contract was too much, I certainly never got a counter of any sort. So it was quite surprising that this friend had waited 4 months to bring this up, and only in the context of being called on being late all the time.

Of course there are exceptions to the personal/business split above, and they happen all the time. There are all kinds of things we do which help each other in business that are quite easy, such as talking up a product, introducing people, giving advice and feedback, etc. All of these things I have done for this friend and others, and I am happy to do them.  There are even cases where I have solved computer problems for people in a work context without getting paid, just chalking it up to good karma.  And I am paid back for these things (by this friend and others) in the same sorts of intangibles.

I am not sure (being that we are all individuals) what goes through the minds of people and how they decide what is “work” and what is not. It is clearly a subjective process. This friend is still my friend, and will be, as I am very fond of him. This event is over in my head and heart, as of this blog post. But I was surprised by his reasoning, and it still escapes me.

In a barn By wolves


I have been in a large number of countries in the last few years, and I have seen an absolutely astonishing variety of behaviors in those cultures. Often times the very same action considered good form in one place will be considered quite rude in another. I have learned that context is everything, and that knowing what is appropriate sometimes depends on a keen understanding, and sometimes is easily inferred.  Even within an ostensibly single culture, there can be a great deal of variety, and mores and values will change overtime, precipitating new behaviors.

That said, I was fairly surprised to witness what I consider to be quite rude behavior at the Brooklyn location of my gym this evening.  I had just finished my workout and shower and was getting dressed when I heard a click click sound. I looked over in horror to see a guy sitting on the bench next to me, clipping his nails gingerly over the bench, paying close attention to his fingers but seemingly none at all to the clippings themselves.  I watched and listened as the clip, clip clip went on for several minutes, shrapnel flying every which way. When he was done he admired himself for a few moments in the mirror, then went to shower, leaving this lovely present for the rest of the members and staff. Convinced I was being Punk’d, I looked around for the camera crew, but alas, this was no TV show. I thought back carefully to the look of this guy. He didn’t appear to be missing a chromosome or from some (very) far away place, but clearly there was something amiss. Where exactly was he raised and by whom? I wondered if this was just his secret, shameful locker room activity, or if perhaps he did this in other places. Maybe over a bowl of soup at a nice restaurant in front of his girlfriend. Perhaps in church while his pastor bored him with something lofty. Whatever. I am just thankful that this isn’t my home gym, and it does push me ever so slightly to look for an apartment in Manhattan over Brooklyn.