Pohadka: Blog -- Our Daily Bread

"Where are those 5 dozen rolls? No, ma'am, the turkey gravy isn't ready yet -- could you come back at 11? Cindy, get more pies! Oh, and here you are sir, 8 loaves of sourdough, 2 whole wheat, and 6 rustic. No, you can't pay here -- please take it to a register. What the heck... can anyone read this order? No, I'm sorry, we really don't have a register here. Yes, you'll have to wait in line. (Cindy, where are the apple pies?) I understand, sir, but you can't pay here because we don't have a register -- What?! The bakers are bringing another rack of bread? But there's no room on the... all right, fine, whatever. Ma'am, I told you, 11 o'clock for the gravy. Oh, you want a cheesecake? I'm sorry, we've sold out. No, unfortunately, it's too late to place an order. No, we're really sold out, there are no more in the back. My manager? Certainly, I'd be happy to get her. Thank you; have a wonderful holiday. Crap. We're out of paper bags..."

It gives me pause to think about all the times I didn't realize that the world of the person behind the counter doesn't revolve around my order for cranberry sauce. Please, people, be kind.

And I will certainly be giving thanks when I'm home in Appleton on Thursday, eating and celebrating instead of bagging and slicing.

Comments

Truly, the only way not to be a jerk to service people is to spend some time as one yourself. I definitely have had my share of service jobs and wouldn't mind having more.

There's a great anecdote in Way of the Peaceful Warrior (an otherwise cheesy book) about a gas-station service attendant (the guru character). One particular night, he's very polite and attentive with a rude yuppie in a BMW and very abrasive and flippant with some hippies in a VW bus.

His assistant (disciple, whatever) asks him why he treated the jerk so well and the hippies so harshly. He replies that he is there to provide service, and he tried to give everyone exactly what they seem to need. The yuppie is hardened and starved for love. The hippes are complacent and stoned out of their minds.

Service on this level of sophistication is a lost art. But on days when I could rise above the petty bullshit, I usually enjoyed doing something simple and good for someone (mostly making them food).

Says Andy
20 Nov 2001 at 04:49 PM