Permission

No sins as long as there’s permission, and deception is the only felony, so never fuck nobody without telling me.

Kanye West

One of the first things my job trained me to do was ask permission. A year and a half later, I get it.

I feel like I’m about to preach.

Permission in customer service is a concept that can be the difference between disrespecting your customer and gaining their trust.

Picture this: You’re at Micro Center, not in the mood to talk to somebody and a sales associate comes over and starts asking you a shit ton of questions. Going through your mind are the terms, “Shut up!”, “Fuck off!,” and best of all, “Did I ask to be interrogated?” Maybe you’ll realize that you didn’t ask and get offended that your polite attitude is being tested by the forwardness of a stranger.

If you go for that kind of thing consider this:

Do you like giving your e-mail and address out? Do you like when cashiers ask you for that information without telling you why? My mom taught me that when the clothing store I visit once a year asks me for my e-mail I have the power to say “no thank you”. Some of ya’ll just dish out the info without giving it a second thought. But when they ask for it, they’re asking for your permission. You don’t have to permit them to spam your mailbox daily. Even the government recognizes that.

I digress. This is permission in the smaller sense. Permission is a sign of respect. By giving someone your permission you are opting in and not everybody deserves to insert themselves in your life.

Think larger: Not everybody deserves to insert their problems, their baggage, their insanity, their bad attitude, their negativity into your life. Opt out.

Do you permit bullshit? I don’t permit bullshit. Don’t entertain it, don’t love it, won’t live it.

A lot of people say they want control over their life, but haven’t taken the wheel.