This was impossible. I reread all the books. We bought new ones. Nothing. Clients First had become a grueling quest, a confused quagmire of sucking up. There is nothing worse than sucking up. It’s phony. I love it when a server with a soprano voice asks, in an alto voice, if she can take our order. This two-octave change in tone tells me she is faking it; when she brings me cream with my black coffee, I know she hasn’t been listening.
I got so bogged down in bad customer service that I suggested we call it “Clients Last.” Thankfully, JoAnn said no. She said there might be a place for the comparison, but only when we could first explain Clients First.
It was like looking for something misplaced. It nagged at us. It became a burden. More than once, one of us would ask the other, “You want to give up? We can forget it. The world doesn’t need another book.” No. We would shake our heads. This was something we had to do.