You're no shop boy...

Sometimes when I'm with friends and we go out to eat, or we go to the grocery store or bank or something, I get laughed at, because of this funny habit I have: every time I'm helped by someone wearing a name tag, I go out of my way to thank them by name and make some sort of conversation with them.  Even the attending individual is a little surprised by this at times, but generally the response is positive.  I do this, because every time I see these people checking groceries, waiting tables, or responding to customer complaints, I am reminded of a job that I had.

When I moved back to the United States in 2009, I didn't really have any money, and I hadn't finished my degree yet, so my resources were limited.  I needed a job.  I wasn't going to find one near where my family lives in rural Idaho, so after about 10 days at home, I decided to move back to Provo where I would begin school in a few months.  I had no real connections, and my resume was a little weak, so I ended up taking the first job I could get, working as a desk clerk at the Super 8 hotel near the university.  This is actually a really good story for another time.  During my time as a hotel desk clerk, I learned a lot about working with people from a point of view that I hadn't had before.  For the first time, I was providing assistance, rather than being assisted.  Some customers were great; happy, gracious, friendly.  Others were a little difficult.  They made really complicated demands, yelled at me for things that had nothing to do with my job, made threats, treated me like a servant, or worse, some sort of appliance or fixture.  I remember times when peoples' credit cards would be declined, and they would scream at me as if it were my fault that their account had issues, or as if I had power to fix it.  One time a lady yelled at me because we didn't have an elevator and demanded that I carry her baggage to her room.  This isn't usually what the clerk does, but the customer is always right, so I smiled and did it.  When we got to the room, she decided she hated it, so she had me change her reservation and carry her baggage to a new one.  She tried three different rooms before she decided that one would be "good enough to survive the night". I did all sorts of things, fixing AC units at 3 a.m., cleaning up vomit, getting additional towels and sheets, etc.  One time someone called my front desk at 4:30 a.m. to complain that they couldn't turn the shower on.  I grabbed a monkey wrench and a toilet plunger (I'm not actually a plumber, but in my mind these seemed like the most adequate tools for the job), and I ran up to the room.  The lady took me into the bathroom where with minimal effort I turned the faucet on and water began to come out exactly the way it should.  The woman looked really perplexed, and I realized what the problem had been: "Ma'am, I think you need to turn it clockwise," I said.  I rarely got tips for doing these extra tasks that were, at times, very demeaning.

Sometimes I felt less than human.  I realized that these people couldn't see past the dorky hotel uniform.  They couldn't see me.  To them, I was defined by my job.  I remember sometimes when I was being treated in an exceptionally cruel or disrespectful way that I had the desire to shout "Who do you think you are?  I'm not beneath you!  This is an honest job!  This isn't who I am, this is something that I'm doing in my current situation as a college student!  I'm paying for my own education!  I work from 10:30 p.m. to 7:30 a.m. Monday through Friday after which I still go to several hours of classes, do my homework, and try to catch a few hours of sleep before I start it all over again!  I study at a very competitive university!  I'm on the dean's list!  I speak three languages!  Can you say those things about yourself?"  Of course, I never said those things out loud.

I really hate chick flicks usually, but onetime when watching the movie "Stardust" with my little sister, I heard a quote that I really like.  In the movie, the character Yvaine says: "If there's one thing I've learned about all my years watching Earth, it is that people aren't what they may seem.  There are shop boys, and there are boys who just happen do work in shops for the time being. And trust me, you're no shop boy... Thank you." This is why I take the time to talk to individuals who help me out.  I know what it's like to be treated like a shop boy when in reality I was just a boy who happened to work in a shop for the time being.

The next time someone helps you:

1) Think about who they probably really are and what their situation might be.  The lady cleaning your office probably has little kids or grandkids that she takes care of.  The girl at the grocery store is probably going to school.  The guy taking your order at McDonalds may be saving up for an engagement ring...

2) Think back to the jobs you've had, like when you scrubbed toilets to get through school, or when you worked at Wendy's or something else that wasn't your dream job, but was a means to an end.

This will help us to be more patient if we ordered curly fries but got steak fries, or if we get put on hold for a little longer than we wanted.  These individuals are not as different from us as we may think.  Usually they are doing the best they can in situations that my be difficult for them.  A little patience, forgiveness, a friendly smile, simple conversation, or acknowledgment that they have a name could totally change their day.  And a little hint from one who's been on both sides of the counter: if they're more happy, you are a lot more likely to get the service you want and sometimes even more.  You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.