"Reps may be genuinely friendly, but they are not genuine friends. Drug reps are selected for their presentability and outgoing natures, and are trained to be observant, personable, and helpful. They are also trained to assess physicians' personalities, practice styles, and preferences, and to relay this information back to the company. Personal information may be more important than prescribing preferences. Reps ask for and remember details about a physician's family life, professional interests, and recreational pursuits. A photo on a desk presents an opportunity to inquire about family members and memorize whatever tidbits are offered (including names, birthdays, and interests). . .Which reminded me, once again, that we live in an endlessly sleazy world.
When it comes to my dealings with the outside world, I always prefer to be a number.
I prefer dealing via email and leaving messages on voicemail.
People say they want "the human touch."
But what is that worth when it's complete and utter superficial, baldfaced bullshit?
Phony human contact is preferable to merely getting a task done?
For instance, when I refill my prescription, I love my pharmacy's automated system. When I renewed my license plate tag, I did it online, thrilled not to have to deal with a human being. I hope it was a machine that licked the envelope shut when the tag was finally sent to me.
What do I want people inquiring about my wife and interests if those inquiries are complete bullshit? And when dealing with a rep of any kind, it's obviously bullshit?
For instance, I despise dealing with my financial guy -- such as those dealings are on the few pennies I earn each month. He wants to talk, to schmooze, to chew my fucking ear off. I want to merely give him a check so that he can put my money in absolutely the most safe, uninteresting, dull bond as possible.
At my wits end that none of my preamble to our annual meetings were being heeded, saying to him in the email I sent to make the appointment: "I just want to drop a check off. I have absolutely no interest in the stock market, in investing, in anything", I finally wrote to him, saying that I was going to go elsewhere unless he just quietly accepted my check. He finally fucking did.
I hate the human touch. These guys make prostitutes seem like old school chums.