Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me three times, shame on these emails.

I scheduled a routine dental appointment at a disagreeable hour — an hour that either sanctions self-aggrandizement (i.e., “I have to be out of here by 8:30, thanks.”) or makes you hit snooze twice.

I hit snooze.

But once I arrived at the office, the soft-spoken receptionist asked for my name twice.

“Are you a new patient?”

“No, I’ve been here before. I have an appointment today.”

Actually, I didn’t have an appointment.

Exactly 1 week prior, I received a reminder email that asked me to click “confirm” if I could still make it on Thursday. But there I was, sitting in their office an entire week early. I quickly checked the email on my phone. Then I looked up, with regret for the lady’s frantic worry, and sheepishly admitted, “Oh, the email says Thursday the 8th …” while only in my conscious adding, “in size 2 font.”

I could write a bit about how I’ve reimagined that email — carefully crafted for emphasis. Instead, there’s something I’d like to admit. My existence in a real-time, next-day world made this company’s email rather untimely.

Real, Unreal Expectations

Truth is, my favorite notifications (email, push, and text) use words like here, now, pretty soon, headed your way, ready, available for immediate use, on its way, nothing new right now, and 1-hour. Depending on your favorite apps, you might have noticed that yours do too.

The usual response to most notifications of this kind is to go: deep into your wallet scrambling for a tip, downstairs to the mailroom, tapping through your inbox. Or, in my case, straight to the dentist’s office.

When I received the reminder, I assumed that my appointment was, well, the next Thursday my eyes opened, not that I was getting a two-week heads-up.

I feel tricked. Just a little.

See, I booked my appointment online, not over the phone. Later, I received their modern templated email, which felt like those from tech companies, and I reacted the same way I would have to any email of its kind.

You could argue that as more and more technology driven companies thrive and change our expectations, other industries should keep up. But that’s selfish, right?

Maybe it’s unreasonable. How could they possibly keep up when these “startups” and monolithic companies that track users’ habits, use A/B testing, analyze big data, and rescue small children just to figure out when’s the best time to send an email?

I’ll take the middle ground: Companies can’t afford to be half good at communications. They potentially miss out on business and frustrate customers, which brings me to the next email.

The Email I Didn’t Actually Receive

Recently, my debit card was declined.

“Sorry, what happened?” I asked (or at least I should have).

“It’s declined.”

My conscious pleaded, “No, no… just do the trick where you fold a receipt over the card and swipe it again,” which appeared to be nothing more than a blank stare to the cashier.

“Hold my guac, ma’am.”

I immediately spotted heavenly radiating booth seating behind me and called my bank. While trying not to be noticed, I recited my social security number. While the customer service representative recited some predictable part of her script, I leaned over the booth to make sure the couple behind me wasn’t stealing my identity. (Don’t worry because they were just FaceTiming.) My attention quickly diverted back to the customer service rep: “You should have received a new card with a chip on it.” But I hadn’t.

And again this time, it was my fault.

• I received a letter stating that I’d get a new debit card soon. I should have followed up after a while.
• I ignored any fine print in that letter if my warning was there.
• My billing address wasn’t up to date, and my new card had been sent to my former address. (Not sure how I got abovementioned letter.)

On the other hand, my debit card hadn’t expired. I would have liked an email letting me know that old cards would be disabled soon. After all, I do receive electronic communications from the same bank.

How do companies that have a choice between postal mail and email choose? This time I’d argue that banks should take a cue from tech companies. When something’s about to change (or already has), email the customer.

Another company did just that.

I know what you’re thinking by now, “Your ‘adulting’ is terrible.” Just hear me out.

I received an email from one of those companies that provides services essential to life. In my opinion, those services include, but aren’t limited to, things like water, light, health care, Wi–Fi, and garbage pickup.

The email stated that I had changed my password recently, along with the infamous “but if you didn’t” disclaimer. I hadn’t changed anything, so I called. The representative quickly clarified what really happened, explaining that they had changed my password for me.

Most days, this wouldn’t have been a big deal. But this particular day, after having survived the long-enough serenade of elevator music over the phone, it was. I was so annoyed — so annoyed that I proceeded to rewrite the comm for the company and ask the representative if she could forward me to their communications department. That day, some business was going to get free copy help.

Emails cause headaches.

Getting them right is hard. At one point, even Yammer got them all wrong. As our technologies become more intuitive, convenient, and reliable, the way we communicate with customers and end users should mirror that progress. Thing is, it’s easier said than done, especially when folks like me have such high expectations.