1000 Awful Things

Where ever Edward Tufte is, he’s got a bad feeling in his stomach, and it’s all because of godaddy.com’s cluttered registration process. If you boil it down, when one goes to their site, he/she wants to (1) search for a domain to buy, and then (2) buy it. But along one’s quest for a domain name, the customer is bombarded with ads and offers and anything & everything they want to throw at you. So let’s begin our journey…

1. Start page. When you start you’d like to see a simple page with a search box, instead you see this cluttered page with 7037 words… that’s right 7037 words. I’d like to see a box (that applies to other contexts, too) and a button that says ’search’. If you look closely you can see the little white box in the middle where the domain is entered.  Perhaps the designers should consult with some of the designers at google or other places where they appreciate the less is more mentality.  Because as much as I LOVE Nascar, I’m not sure I want to be greeted by it when I’m shopping for domain names.  And as far as the rest of the page, I have no clue what is going on…
2. Ooooooooooooooops. And if you enter a domain name with godaddy in it, they won’t let you proceed.  And they end this warning with a preposition!
3. Other offers.  Next, you get to choose from other offers including, but not limited to various top level domains, .BIZ domain names, premium domain names, additional domain names, smart search, international domains, and most imortantly Tips from experts!  But, if you’re like most people you are just looking for the domain for which you searched.  So, to do that you get to scroll down (two screens on this 13 inch macbook) to a little orange button to allow you to do so.
4. You’ve found a great domain! Oooooooooooooohhh, and if you’re a lucky contestant like me, you may have found a great domain name, so again, you get presented with more domains you can purchase along with super duper deals to go along with them.  But, in this case, I wasn’t interested so much in other domains; instead I was actually interested in the domain for which I searched, but where the fuck is the oranage button!  I see two of them, where’s the proceed button?  Alas, it’s a normal blue link in the center of the page.  Very intuitive, indeed.
5. More deals.  This is definitely one of my top three godaddy pages, and it’s the more deals page, where you get to select the extra perks and deals to go along with your normal purchase.  And they are so gratious to, by deafult, select your registration length to be five years… they’re always looking out for you.  Then you get incredible offers, like private registration, business registration, expiration protection, and the best — Deadbolt Transfer Protection.  I like to call that the chastity belt of the interwebs, because it ensures that no one invades your goodness without your permission.
6. Almost done.  If you’ve gotten this far you’ve probably accidentally ignored the five year registration period, like I did, and you’ll have to go back to 5, then after selecting 1 year, you’ll probably hunt around for the next link again for the next five or ten minutes.  After that you see this.  And yet, again, again, again, more options… I’ve lost count, but you definitely have gotten more worthless options by now than a kid living in Palo Alto in 2000 who knew what web page was.  So, scroll down, down, down and you’re done.
7. Done.

And now I’m done.

I think I made a mistake in doing this.  I even had to back date this post :(.

The first post to this site takes on an issue close to my heart — not holding the elevator.  I like to call this elevatoriasis, which is close to elephantiasis, except that instead of one’s legs and genitals swelling (sometimes) to the size of certain sporting equipment items, one’s ego enlarges until the sole purpose of the perpetrator’s life at this instant is to do whatever he/she can to make sure you do not get on his/her elevator.

There are various degrees of this disorder ranging from the innocent “oops, I didn’t see you coming” to “I don’t care if your bladder is about to rupture, if I don’t get up to my place in less than a minute Maury’s going to start; and you don’t want to deal with me after I’ve missed Maury.”  So here is a generalization of a typical progression of the disease.

1. Apologizing while the door closes. The initial onset of this syndrome typically starts with innocently missing a person coming towards the elevator and ends with a trailing apology to this person as the elevator doors come to a close.  I’m not sure whether this is a foreshadowing of bigger problems in the future, but all in the throws of this illness can certainly remember the first time they left some one stranded, waiting for the next ride upstairs.
2. Acting oblivious to everything.  This involves tuning out all one’s surroundings (or pretending to) and acting like there isn’t someone stumbling through the foyer carrying seven bags, pleading for you to hold on just one second.  This is usually the first sign there’s a problem.
3. Faux-distractions.  Many people are familiar with this technique in other venues, but in this context, faux-distractions involve pulling out a favorite electronic device (like your demon iphone) and pretending like your are taking care of business (TCOB); because when one’s in the TCOB-zone, clearly there isn’t time to wait for another.  This usually involves checking email or texts, but can extend to pretending to talk on the phone or even putting on a puzzled face, acting like the phone is broken.
4. Outright harassment.  The second-to-last stage of this ailment takes the patient to point where he/she feels the need to antagonize the person trying to get on the elevator, saying things such as “maybe if you’re Mom loved you, you could get on this elevator” or “perhaps if you spent less time at the Dunkin Donuts and more time at the gym, you could have dragged your fat ass over here faster.”  This usually involves continued rants until the elevator rider arrives at his/her destination and sometimes ends with self-high fives and texts to his bros about how he just tooled this guy.
5. Getting physical.  This is more than just a kickass song by Olivia Newton-John, it marks the final stage in a chronic illness that involves physical preventing another person from entering your elevator.  It matters not whether the person is some 16 year-old kid with his pants half-way down his legs or an elderly woman with a walker, this person will do anything to keep his/her solo ride.  Like many disorders, there is no explanation for this behavior, but if you find yourself applying an arm bar to an 80 year-old ex- 3rd grade teacher, SEEK HELP!