Hi Friend,
(Yes, you. I wouldn’t address a client who isn’t paying me as a “friend.” The open letter starts below.)
As you might have guessed from the title of this newsletter, I’m angry. Annoyed. Frustrated. Sad. Hungry. And kinda sleepy.
Writing this letter (and yes, it’s based on a real situation) has helped me to process some of the annoyed, frustrated, and sad emotions. I’ll have to deal with hungry and sleepy on my own.
I hope you enjoy reading this letter as much as I enjoyed writing it. It gave me a great deal of pleasure to write this. Even if it never actually gets sent to anyone but you.
Here’s to your continued freelance success,
Heidi
Dear former client,
What an absolute delight it was to find you finally emailed me with a proposal to pay me. After so many occurrences where you promised to get me a payment plan ‘tomorrow’ I was beginning to worry your education system failed you so badly you didn’t know what the word ‘tomorrow’ means. Or maybe you live in some mystical land where ‘tomorrow’ means ‘8 weeks from now.’ If that’s the case, my sincere apologies for the misunderstanding. Please forward me a dictionary of common terms in your land so we save ourselves the heartache of future miscommunication.
I admit, I was both impressed and bewildered by the audacity of your payment plan. $7,000 paid at $500 a month will take you a whopping 14 months to pay. By the time we’re done it will have been 17 months since that payment was first due, assuming you follow through on your word.
It’s as though the universe asked the question, “What is the least he could possibly offer while still telling himself he’s doing the right thing?” and you jumped in with the most professionally insulting answer possible.
Before you correct my math, I double checked it on my office calculator (I keep one handy because I’m a words person, not a numbers person) and with a curious squirrel sitting outside my window. (She is a numbers squirrel, not a words squirrel, which is why we work so well together.)
Let’s be clear, I have zero optimism you’ll actually follow through. Is it possible to have negative optimism without being pessimistic? It’s not that the glass is half full or half empty, it’s that I’m thirsty and know I’ll want more water soon and the server appears to be on his break. For the next 14 months.
Essentially, I’m giving you a $7,000 loan to run your business, with absolutely no guarantees you’ll actually pay me back on time or at all. You could get two payments in and start forgetting to pay me.
The squirrel and I know that song and dance. You’ll start promising ‘tomorrow’ and we’ll start wondering if dementia is slowly taking hold because you are clearly playing fast and loose with the meaning of the word.
Even if you do pay it all back, I’ll have taken a loss because that money isn’t in my account earning interest or paying off my debts. Despite not being a numbers person I know $500 14 months from now won’t go as far as $500 goes today. Because, inflation. You’re also increasing my administrative work because now I have to track every payment to ensure I get paid (and I’ll almost certainly have to follow up with you a few times) and make sure the full amount is paid off.
Joy of joys, I get to continue dealing with you when really I just want to be done with you.
Honestly, it took you three months to come up with $500 a month for 14 months? I know students in grade 2 who could come up with that payment plan more quickly than you.
I discussed it with the squirrel (I’m considering making her a business advisor) and we’re both skeptical of your ability to follow through. I believe the squirrel’s exact words were “Is he f#@$ing kidding?” (see previous comment about the squirrel being a numbers squirrel).
What’s hilarious to me is how much time you spent talking about your business values. Remember those? You waxed poetic about your word meaning something (unless, I guess, that word is ‘tomorrow’). Doing things because you said you would. Striving to be better. It’s a touch ironic that you pushed those values but refuse to uphold them when dealing with me.
Maybe no words mean anything to you. Maybe no words mean anything.
I know you’re in a different country and I’ll have to figure out if I have any recourse against you. Maybe I have legal recourse, maybe it’s even worth following up on. I’m concerned that if I don’t know how people in your land define ‘tomorrow’ I’ll never figure out how to say ‘deadbeat client’ in a way they can understand.
Here’s the thing: I know you desperately want to be thought of as a good guy. But it's how you treat the people who have no leverage over you that speaks volumes about who you are. Just because I can't shut off your utilities or put a lien on your home doesn't mean paying me is optional.
How you’re treating me suggests you’re not all that much of a good guy. Because it’s clear that paying me the money you owe me isn’t a priority. It’s way down the list, behind coordinating your sock colour with your mood, arranging your houseplants in order of height, and measuring the blades of grass on your lawn to ensure they’re all the same length.
Yes, I saw your message about the unexepcted expenses you received in July. I guess it’s fortunate that I can rely on unicorn kisses to pay my bills. I’m one of the lucky ones to have a bank, utility provider and grocer who all accept good intentions as payment for their products and services. What a position I’d be in if I had to pay for things with actual money!
It must be so unlucky to be you—to be the only person in the world to have bills. And unexpected ones at that! How do you manage? I guess by not paying your expected bills. Or your writer.
I’m curious, though. Are these bills really unexpected? Because I’m getting the impression that you’re so terrible with money you repeatedly dig yourself into financial holes and now you’re expecting the writer to help you out of it.
That’s what we’re good for, after all. Providing you with words that drive your business and digging you out of financial holes. Perhaps that should be my tagline.
I have to go. The squirrel is indicating she’s ready for her nap and I’m feeling somewhat hungry now. Good thing I have those unicorn kisses to buy my lunch, because I have the sense I won’t be seeing actual money from you any time soon.
Not even a little bit happy to still be dealing with you,
Heidi