Many of you reading this may be members of the service industry. Many of you may also not be, but you pays your money and you takes your chances and I have little (at the moment) to say to those of you not in the service industry.
Now then.
Those of you in the service industry, those of you who are waiters, those of you who run the cash register at pizza places, those of you who work in clothing stores, I have a simple question:
Why do you hate me?
Why do all of you hate me with such great vigor and gumption? Has there been some sort of meeting? Have you all discussed how you will act toward me? Was my photo passed around?
Why do I ask this? Well, I’ve got a streak going, that started back in 1984, and the only reason it started then is because I can’t remember much farther back than that. Since 1984, people in the service industry have been rude to me over 9,032 times in a row. I’ve been trying to understand it for years, but frankly, I’m out of theories, and I’m tired.
When I go out to eat, or go to buy something in a store, I make every effort, as I do in the rest of my life, to be cordial with those people I meet. As my mother always said, “Be nice to everyone, or else you will cause our family great shame.” And I do. I swear to God, I do. Be nice to people. I do that. I don’t bring shame to my family. In that arena at least. When I bump into someone, whether it’s my fault or not, I say, “Sorry.” When someone hands me any object or I hand anyone else any object, I say, “Thank you” (this makes the least sense to me when I hand money to someone as I’m buying a product and I say thank you… this makes no sense to me, and yet I do it as a rule every time). When I speak to people older than me, I say, “Ma’am” and “Sir”. I say, “Excuse me” if I have to get by someone, and frankly, if I say, “Excuse me” a few times and they don’t move, I just find another way to go; I don’t push; I don’t shove. I don’t yell; I speak calmly. I follow the God damn rules. I do what you’re supposed to do. And I don’t do it condescendingly; I do it sincerely.
Now… I expect the same back from everyone else in the world, to be honest, but I’m not shocked when I don’t get it. If random people don’t return my kindness, I’m not shocked. They have no vested interest in me or keeping me happy.
But let me run down for you the entire purpose and goal of the service industry: TO MAKE ME GIVE THEM MY MONEY. All they have to do in the world is TAKE MY MONEY. And when I go into a store or restaurant, I am openly saying, “HEY! I WOULD LIKE TO GIVE YOU GUYS SOME MONEY!” So you would think the response would be, “HEY! GREAT! WE’LL BE REALLY NICE TO YOU IN THE HOPES THAT YOU WILL GIVE US MORE RATHER THAN LESS MONEY!” The actual response, however, is, “HEY! WE’RE GOING TO BE ASSES TO YOU!”
If I’m in a restaurant, and you are my waiter, do you not realize that I am in charge of the tip you get? Does that not occur to you? Do you not realize that you should be as helpful and nice as possible? Do you not realize that if I ask you what the soup of the day is, you should know it? That that’s your job? And that you should say, if you do not know it, “Hold on a sec, lemme go check.” Do you realize that becoming snippy and getting upset at me for not checking the specials on the way in is not the way to go? Do you realize that making me walk out to the front of the restaurant and check the specials myself (which I will do, because I’m trying to be nice) is not helping to raise that tip much at all? Do you? HEY! Because all these things are true!
I’m in a pizza shop the other day. I order two slices of pizza. They get it, give it to me. “$3.50,” the guy says. I hand him a five dollar bill and fifty cents. He goes back to the cash register, does something or other, I wait patiently. I notice he’s starting to do other things: getting some calzones out of the oven, moving plates around. I do, what most people do not, I give him: The Benefit of the Doubt. I think, “Well, he doesn’t appear to be getting my change, but I’m not gonna bother him right away because maybe he is and I just don’t know it because I don’t work in a pizza place and it’s a strange world to me.” So, I wait. And then he starts helping another customer, and so I say, “‘Scuse me, could I have my change, please?” He says surprisedly, “Oh! Did you-… how much did you give me?” “$5.50,” I say. He goes to the register, and gives me two bucks. Now here’s the kicker: his boss, maybe the owner of the place, I dunno, his boss has the AUDACITY, the TEMERITY, the NOIVE to say to this guy, “Now I know why we come up short every day!” The guy who gave me two bucks says, “No, I forgot to give him change I guess.” The boss says, with great worry and anger, “How do you know he gave you $5.50? How do you know? You don’t know that! He could be just saying that!”
…
Dear Lord.
Now, I’m scamming them? Is that it? I go down to this pizza place to scam them? Out of two freakin’ dollars? Yes. Yes, it’s true; it’s a fair cop. What I do is, I go to this pizza place every single day, and buy two slices and give them $3.50, in the hopes, that one time, they’ll slip up. And then…CHECKMATE! The day is mine! I’ve got two bucks! Oh, sure, in order to get the two bucks I had to spend over $90 on pizza before the whole thing worked, but it was so wonderfully worth it.
HEY! PIZZA SHOP OWNER! Could you at least wait till I’m out of earshot to call me a criminal? Could ya? Because that’s the kind of thing, being called a cheat, that might make me want to go patronize one of the other million freakin’ pizza places around here.
But I won’t.
Because for all the rudeness, I still will buy pizza from them…because they have good pizza. And no matter how bad a waiter treats me…I’ll give them 15%. And if I’m going to buy clothes from a place, I’ll weather the storm of assholes there, too. That’s the real secret. And that’s why they all torment me:
Because they know they can.
Somehow they all know. And so they’re evil because they can get away with it. Which leads this writer to believe that people are basically evil. At least people in the service industry. That’s my little metaphysics lesson for today. Now go out and buy some pizza. Please. Thank you.