Here’s a hypothetical for you. Let’s say you’re the recently elected mayor of the ninth-largest city in the United States. You’ve got a pair of custom Luccheses that you acquired nearly a decade ago. They don’t fit quite right. Do you:
A. Ignore this particular footwear problem because if the boots don’t fit right, you really should have addressed the issue back when you took delivery of the boots. Or, if you’re super busy, within the first year of having taken delivery of the boots.
B. Google “Lucchese” and “Dallas,” learn that there’s a custom shop in the Design District, pop over there one day during lunch, sheepishly explain that you’ve had these boots for almost 10 years, admit that you should have dealt with this boot problem a long time ago, but then ask politely for help.
C. Turn to your City Hall assistant and say, “Hey, I got a Lucchese problem. Will you figure this out for me?”
D. Go to Twitter and write: “@Lucchese1883 I have a pair of custom made Luccheses that I need redone. They were never right from the time I took delivery of them years ago. Whom do I need to call to finally get them right? Thanks!” And then, after Lucchese writes back, “Thank you for reaching out! Be on the lookout for a direct message!” do you rummage around in your top desk drawer for some more exclamation marks and reply, “Thank you so much! Love the way my boots look, but haven’t had a chance to wear them more than 4 or 5 times in the 8 or so years since I’ve owned them due to improper fit!” And then, after Lucchese writes, “We would love for you to visit us so we can address this problem!” do you still refuse to use Google and reply, “Where are you located?”
Eric Johnson, the mayor of Dallas, chose option D. If he will do this publicly for something like a pair of boots, one wonders what he’d do in private, with something that really matters.