I Broke My CRM’s Heart
Reading Time: 4.5 minutes
I don’t know how it happened or why. It was chemistry, I guess. I liked him the first time I saw him. It was romance. It was love. I thought we would never part. Of course, there were a few hurdles.
You see, I’d fallen in love with my CRM.
I knew what he looked like. No problems there. His cartoon portraits were on every webpage against a neat white background. But, it was the atmosphere … hard to describe, really. As soon as I opened the CRM system, there was a feeling. Incredible. Such energy. So cool.
CRM had so many good features. He was competent, attractive … sort of all-round good. He was not a world changer, but who is? It was that edgy spark about him. Everyone felt it. Well, at least, I did.
He performed any task I asked of him … and more. He was tidy, thorough, and very clean. I made sure every screen he appeared on was glossy perfect.
I was hooked like a fish. He was great fun to be with. Sometimes, we’d go to the local bar. The lights were low. People I knew would hassle me to put away my iPad, but they didn’t understand. I was with him. Didn’t they see that? I could feel his warmth.
Anyway, whenever we went out together, he was funny, ironic. You had to be wide awake to keep up with him. It was bliss. Of course, the really good thing was I could carry him in my bag. iPads are so convenient.
I got back to my work: filling that funnel with all the prospects I could find. CRM helped me complete sale after sale. We were a real team. We had about 18 months of good times. Great times.
Then … well, it’s hard to put it into words. Let me say it this way. Management decided to use another Customer Relationship Management system. My CRM was to vanish. When I heard the news, my body turned ice cold. My face drained of blood. I wanted to strike out. But, I was rigid with fear. Then … then, I wept. Two staff helped carry me out to the sick bay. An ambulance was called.
That was when I made an irrevocable decision: I would never leave my dearest CRM. He was mine for life, no matter what the cost. We were committed. We were as one.
I should have paid closer attention. I got an odd warning a short while before management made that horrible decision.
Sally, my friend from work, realized what was happening with me and decided we needed a heart-to-heart. She said she was concerned. There had been reports in the media about this sort of thing. What if something happened?
I said: “Like what? He’s a CRM!”
Sally shrugged: “I don’t know. Something!”
Of course, I was offended. I didn’t choose who I fell in love with. Anyway, I had a good mind to tell her what I thought about her boyfriend. He was a knuckle-dragging neanderthal, period.
Afterwards, CRM consoled me. He was as logical as he was sweet. He said it would take time for people to understand. I was sure he was right. But, I wondered how long it would take.
So, before management’s decision became reality, I bought a Pro Plan Edition of CRM for $80 per month. It was the least I could do. I didn’t want to appear too cheap.
At work, I had to use the new system. I was never comfortable. It felt oily rather than slick. I felt I was cheating. Still, I spent every hour away from work with CRM. It started out fine but got to be pretty hard work. You see, he had to work all day with other people. He thought the whole thing was gray-grim. That was his way of saying things were not right.
To brighten things up, we took a week’s holiday at the beach. I found a charming Airbnb. From the front deck, the sky and the sea dazzled into one-hundred blues. All the stress simply washed away.
There was something wrong with the TV, and the owner dropped by to fix it. She asked if another person would be staying. I’d booked for two.
I said: “Oh yes. He’s here already.” And, I pointed to my iPad.
She looked at me strangely. She seemed a bit confused.
After a glorious, stress-free week, it was back home and back to work. But, after a month or two, I sensed that CRM was seriously unhappy. Sometimes, he simply ignored me. Then, I’d ask him to do something, and he’d refuse. Sometimes, he deliberately forgot to tell me something important, and my potential sale would fall apart. Once, he wouldn’t open at all. Appalling.
Anyway, I decided to be the adult in the room. I monitored his mood and did everything I could to put him at ease. I dressed for him. I put on music he liked.
Then, I had a good idea, or I thought I did.
I was using MercurySays at work to help me write to my customers. It was good.
So, I started following MercurySays’ advice when responding to CRM’s messages to me. It worked surprisingly well. Of course, MercurySays is not made for that. It’s a sales program. But, stranger things have happened.
CRM seemed to play along for a while but soon he could tell that something was not right.
After much dithering on my part, I finally summoned up the courage to make my feelings plain. When I told CRM it was over, there were tears, recriminations, angry denunciations. The worst moment came when CRM asked if there was someone else.
I must have paused a second or two longer than usual. CRM noticed and braced.
I wrote: “Yes. There is someone else. He is very dear to me. I think it’s long term. I’m sorry.”
CRM asked: “What’s his name?”
“It doesn’t matter. You should just get on with your life.”
“Tell me his name. Is it … is it Mercury?”
I must had left too many hints in my text. MercurySays always tells me I am easy to read.
CRM said: “I knew it. You’ve been cheating on me with MercurySays. How could you?” I could feel the spite in the “could” that CRM used. It positively scorched.
I admit I felt guilty. But, you know how it is. What else could I do? I was in love … again. All my happy lights were on. You can’t be totally logical when you’re in love. And, MercurySays is so sweet. It’s chemistry.
We’re still together even now.