I just ordered a playscript from Samuel French - London. I attempted to order it online, but their website is -- well -- not quite useful. [Or should I say, "almost but not quite entirely unlike a useful website"?] So, with the help of Mr. Google, I deciphered how to place a telephone call to England, and ordered it over the phone.
A young-sounding gentleman answered the phone and, in the most calm and soothing of voices, helped me place the order. The conversation went something like this:
Me: "Yes, hello. I'd like to order a playscript. The title is 'Death', and it's by Woody Allen."
English chap: "Ah, yes. I'm sure we've got that in."
Me (as he looks it up): "I tried to find it on your website, but I couldn't. [Generously...] Perhaps I was looking in the wrong place..."
English chap: "We carry several thousand script titles. We couldn't possibly keep them all on the website, now could we?"
Me: "Well, that depends... do you want to SELL ANY OF THEM???? Of course, if you were an AMERICAN, then you probably would figure out a way to do that. And if you didn't, then the folks with the store right next to you would -- and then how much business would you get???" [Ok, I didn't actually say this, but I thought it.]
... [skipping a bit] ...
English chap: "It's too late to send it out today, but if you'd like to pay by credit card, I could have it sent out on Monday."
Me (rather miffed at having missed the unpublished Friday cut-off. Hey, it's before 5pm; what's your problem??): "Well... I don't know how much it's going to cost, yet."
English fellow: "The price is 4 pounds fifty."
Me: "And how much is shipping?"
English chum: "Oh, I should think about 1 pound."
Me: "Yeah, well, what IS it -- not what might you think it is." [Ok, ok; I didn't say that, either.]
Me: "And do you know how long it takes, to send to Germany?"
English dude: "Well, it's just a matter of days, isn't it?"
Me: "Hey, I don't know! That's why I'm asking you!! Do you know or not???" [Yeah, you guessed it. I didn't say that, either.]
I probably make it sound worse than it was. I was very cordial to him; he was super-soothing and cordial to me. But...
Argh!!! Can't you post your prices? Can't you keep your inventory at least mildly up-to-date? Can't you post your shipping prices and methods, along with the expected transit times? Are you in business, or not? Hey- Hey-- you! Are you listening to me??
Toto, we're not in America anymore.
[Ok, ok, there may be factors other than national culture involved here. Like... the slothfulness of a monopoly could easily contribute to a corporate culture that doesn't seek out ways to improve.]
On the flip-side, I found a rather American, and very rude guy at the Samuel French performance rights phone #, in California. That conversation went something like this:
Me: "I'm interested in the performance rights for 'Death' by Woody Allen."
Californian fellow: "Is this a professional theater?"
Me: "No, it's a high school, in Germany, actually."
Californian chap: "Germany! OK, here's what you need to do: send an email to xxxxxx, include yyyyyy information. We don't operate with email, so we'll send you a reply by postal mail. I know, old technology, isn't it? But that's how we operate."
Me: "OK. First, though, would it help if I contacted your London office?"
Californian bloke: "Let me see if I can explain this simply. Here's what you need to do: send an email to xxxxxx. Don't do anything else. Just do that."
Me: "Well, aren't we just Mr. Smarty-Pants today, then!" [Well, I didn't say that, either. But perhaps I should have...]
Hey, at least the English guy was nice.