Two Stories about Friday

First

Friday morning, I was at my usual pace for work (just barely on time) when our repair guys showed up to install our new over-the-stove microwave. At this exact moment, my neighbor comes knocking on my door and tells me that I should get my tire filled before I go to work because it's pretty low. The repair guys happen to have an air compressor with them and they refill the tire but point out that it has a nail in it (!) and that I should get it patched asap.

I was going to wait until after work but got a little paranoid and decided to stop and take care of it since I was already running late.

Turns out, I was really glad I did. Because I met this way cool woman who shared many of her life experiences with me. I only caught her name because one of the guys at the shop addressed her as such. But she was awesome. I learned that she had been married for 40 years before her husband had passed away in 2001. She had had 3 kids of her own, but in her own family she was number 10 out of 11. (11!)

This was my favorite story. She had moved to Hampton and the kids were first starting the school there. Her youngest son was not very happy at school and though she kept telling him it would get better, he kept insisting that it would NOT. On the fourth day in the new school, he says that the teacher has been giving him a very hard time and seems to have singled him out.

Her reaction is the same as any over-protective mother. My baby? Being picked on by the teacher? No one is going to treat MY baby this way! I will go up and have word with her first thing tomorrow and get this straight.

The boy's face lights up -- he sees his salvation.

Mom says that there was one more thing. The thing is, she says, that this is the fourth day of school. The teacher must see 130 students a day. Why is it in this short a period of time does she know her son SO well to have singled him out for her attention?

The boy's face falls. Never mind, Mama, I'll take care of it. I'm sure it will be okay.

This was my favorite story. But, really the woman was just so wonderful. So full of life and experience and I could have stayed and pulled from that all day.

And it made me appreciate this aspect of my personality -- of talking to random people in gas stations and hearing their portion of the human experience. Because we're all going through this in our own ways and it's just such a fascinating journey.

Second

Later that night, Scott and I were out with a group of people in a bar. The waitress was inattentive from the beginning. She wouldn't come and get orders. She would get partial orders and then make us wait to complete them. One could argue that it was Friday night and it was busy, but several of our party saw her up at the bar flirting and playing with the bartender. Not TOO busy for that.

This was a large part of the conversational topic that evening.

We cut our time at the bar short, largely because the service was so bad. When we finally got our check, the gratuitity was included because our party was so large. Therefore, we had no way to show our displeasure with the service.

Well, unless we're Scott. He wrote on the check, "This was the worst service ever."

He paid the bill and we started to walk out. The waitress approached us and asked what he meant by that?? He explained the aspects of our service that were bad and she basically stalked off.

We stood outside for a few minutes gathering our group and determining our plan. A few of our party come out to tell us that the waitress was in tears. One said that her comment was, "I didn't think the service was that bad."

That bad? Doesn't that imply that you knew it was not that good?

Here is where I split down the middle. The service was bad, but I'm not much of one for conflict AND I really hate to be the reason anyone cries. Even if they "deserved" it for ignoring us so totally. (Don't assume things -- Scott was not the only person who voiced this exact sentiment.)

The Unicorn will ask for new servers. Some people will ask for a manager. Some people will just lay down and take it. The Librarian and I had an interesting discussion about this one time when I short-tipped someone because I was displeased with the service... Her take was that the servers make MUCH less than minimum wage and their tips are all they have to survive on. My take was that if you are living on your tips, then you should probably earn them. If I don't do good at my job, my boss hears about it and it could potentially affect my continued employment. Why should I expect any less of the service I receive in the public??

But, really it all goes back to the human experience. Our visit to that bar on that night made a negative impact on that woman's life. Will it stick wither her? Will she learn to be more attentive? Will we react differently if we are in a situation with bad service?

Who knows? It was all part of the human experience on one Friday night.