I needed socks.
That was it. Nothing complicated. I wasn’t buying a car. I wasn’t applying for a mortgage. I wasn’t making a major life decision. But I had noticed that several pairs of my socks were getting dangerously thin in places socks should not be thin, so I went online to buy some new ones.
Before I could even look at the socks, the website wanted to know if I would accept cookies. Then it wanted my location. Then a little box appeared asking if I wanted 15% off my first order in exchange for my email address.
No. I would like socks.
I closed the box, and another one appeared. Would I like to receive notifications? Absolutely not. I finally found the socks, put them in my cart, and went to check out. This is where the website decided we had known each other long enough to take things to the next level.
Would I like to create an account? No. Are you sure? Yes. But you could track your orders. I have one order. You could save your information for next time. There may not be a next time.
Join our rewards program?
I don’t know you like that.
Eventually I found the tiny little “continue as guest” option, which was hidden on the page like something they were legally required to include but deeply resented. I bought the socks.
I thought we were done.
We were not done.
The email came almost immediately. Thanks for your order. Fine. That one makes sense. Then another. Your order is being prepared. Okay. Then another. Your order has shipped. Useful.
Then another asking if I wanted to see what was new.
No. I was just there.
A few days later, the socks arrived. I put them on. They were socks. They did everything I had hoped they would do.
Then came the email asking me to review them. How were your socks? They’re fine. Would you recommend them to a friend? I cannot imagine a situation where I call a friend to tell them about these socks.
Then came another email.
We miss you.
You do not miss me. We had one transaction. I gave you money. You gave me socks. It was clean. It was simple. It was beautiful.
But now you keep emailing me. You want me to download your app. You want me to join your rewards club. You want to know my birthday. You want me to follow you on Instagram. I don’t even follow some people I actually know on Instagram.
This has gone too far!
I thought we were keeping this casual. I needed socks. You had socks. Money changed hands. We both got what we wanted. At no point did I think this meant we should start checking in with each other.
And now you’re telling me you miss me.
I think maybe we want different things.
You want loyalty. You want my email address. You want to know what I like, what I might want next, and when my birthday is. You want this to be something.
I don’t.
It’s not you. It’s me.
Actually, no. It’s definitely you.
I just wanted socks.
Please stop emailing me.
