Today, I’d like to talk about a societal problem that has plagued the nation since the dawn of the first audio-recording device: the outgoing voicemail message.
To record the outgoing message takes skill, as one tries to strike that fine line between “Friendly and happy to hear from you” and “Telemarketers need not leave a message, or I will hunt you down and talk to you about insurance premiums while you’re trying to eat dinner.” It’s a delicate balance, and one I have yet to achieve.
My sister has a lovely outgoing recording. “If you’re looking for Kim, you’ve found her! Leave a message.” Fun, short . . . but a little too telemarketer-encouraging, if you ask me. Plus, I don’t want anyone to leave a message. That might make me feel guilty when I don’t call back.
On the other end is the ultra-professional message. (Someone in my household has this type of greeting, and it’s not me, but I’ll say no more.) “You have reached John Doe. I am unavailable at the moment. Please leave a message and I will respond accordingly in due time.” This is a little too standoffish and condescending to me. Plus, again, why are you telling people to leave a message?
There’s always the pre-loaded automated greeting, in which a robot tells the caller that they’ve reached 800-555-1212, and that no one is available to take their call. Tempting, but I like to have verification that I’ve actually called the right person. I have no less than 12 Kathys in my contact list, and I depend on being able to recognize their voice in their message to tell me what type of message to leave. (Kathy T: “Hey, it’s me! Give me a call, and in the meantime, give Miss Hannah-Banana a hug for me!” as opposed to Kathy B: “Hello, it’s Stacey. I just emailed you back that contract you submitted for editing.” Could get tricky.)
Back in college, my roommates and I perfected the art of the outgoing message. I can still remember all the words of our message, sung to the Brady Bunch tune: “Here’s the story/of a girl named Stacey/living with Heather, Deb and Dee/None of them are at home, what a bummer/they'll call you back, you'll see . . .” I won’t go on, but it was long, obnoxious, and irritating. We thought we were hilarious. Someone had to really want to talk to us to sit through that off-tune stinker.
Hmm. You know, I think we were on to something.
Many thanks to my colleague Rob, who, when I said “I need a blog idea! Help!” shot off a few misfires (“Seasonal footwear? The versatility of toast?”) did stumble upon “Leaving the proper outgoing message?” Thanks.
To record the outgoing message takes skill, as one tries to strike that fine line between “Friendly and happy to hear from you” and “Telemarketers need not leave a message, or I will hunt you down and talk to you about insurance premiums while you’re trying to eat dinner.” It’s a delicate balance, and one I have yet to achieve.
My sister has a lovely outgoing recording. “If you’re looking for Kim, you’ve found her! Leave a message.” Fun, short . . . but a little too telemarketer-encouraging, if you ask me. Plus, I don’t want anyone to leave a message. That might make me feel guilty when I don’t call back.
On the other end is the ultra-professional message. (Someone in my household has this type of greeting, and it’s not me, but I’ll say no more.) “You have reached John Doe. I am unavailable at the moment. Please leave a message and I will respond accordingly in due time.” This is a little too standoffish and condescending to me. Plus, again, why are you telling people to leave a message?
There’s always the pre-loaded automated greeting, in which a robot tells the caller that they’ve reached 800-555-1212, and that no one is available to take their call. Tempting, but I like to have verification that I’ve actually called the right person. I have no less than 12 Kathys in my contact list, and I depend on being able to recognize their voice in their message to tell me what type of message to leave. (Kathy T: “Hey, it’s me! Give me a call, and in the meantime, give Miss Hannah-Banana a hug for me!” as opposed to Kathy B: “Hello, it’s Stacey. I just emailed you back that contract you submitted for editing.” Could get tricky.)
Back in college, my roommates and I perfected the art of the outgoing message. I can still remember all the words of our message, sung to the Brady Bunch tune: “Here’s the story/of a girl named Stacey/living with Heather, Deb and Dee/None of them are at home, what a bummer/they'll call you back, you'll see . . .” I won’t go on, but it was long, obnoxious, and irritating. We thought we were hilarious. Someone had to really want to talk to us to sit through that off-tune stinker.
Hmm. You know, I think we were on to something.
Many thanks to my colleague Rob, who, when I said “I need a blog idea! Help!” shot off a few misfires (“Seasonal footwear? The versatility of toast?”) did stumble upon “Leaving the proper outgoing message?” Thanks.
RSS Feed