I flew the American 450 from Atlanta to Dallas this morning, and although I fear cursing myself by saying this, the experience was very smooth. I can now call this a trend – planes which are leaving on time and generally lacking in any of the drama and unpleasantness that so thoroughly characterized my first few months of flying this year.
Perhaps it was the smooth sailing today that enabled me to fully absorb something I’ve observed before without quite taking it in. It caught my attention this time while in line for a snack and a bottle of water at the T12 Starbucks. It was a small thing, but a revealing one I think.
The woman taking orders at the Starbucks counter was making an effective effort at being cheerful without being forced. With a bright tone in her voice she was asking each patron “How are you doing this morning?” I love it when I see people do that, and I even admire it when I see it done at a menial job in which so few people would find very much to be cheerful about. At least I some small way that simple little act on her part requires a measure of character and courage that isn’t necessarily easy to reach for.
I did not notice any of the responses us patrons were making to her until the guy directly ahead of me took his turn ordering. His reply was not “fine” or “good” or “hi” or any such acknowledgment – only “caramel machiatto backflippiolo with reduced carbon footprint” or some such bobo milkshake allowed to masquerade as coffee. That’s when it hit me.
The barista was invisible to this guy. She wasn’t even there. It seemed sad. When you make the kind of effort she was making there aren’t many rewards you can hope for. Regular customers on the T Councourse are not going to be that numerous, so there’s little chance of building any of the casual acquaintance relationships you might in another location. And there’s zero chance that her day’s pay will go up by even a dime no matter how cheerful she is.
No, just about the only external reward she could get for her effort would be some simple acknowledgement, some notice from the person on the other side of the counter that she was trying to be pleasant, even kind. But the fellow ahead of me wasn’t playing. It was one of two things. Either he was distracted to the point of being a little rude, or he cared so little at her effort that he consciously ignored it. The result was the same either way for her, but the latter would reflect a lot more poorly on him. It reminded me how much you can tell about someone by how they treat people when they have little or nothing to gain from them. How this small thing actually reflected on this man on this particular morning is anyone’s guess. It was unknowable, and nothing I could control in any case.
“Fine! How are you doing?” I said when it was my turn. She smiled a big thank you and proceeded to take my order. It was the least that I could do.
I agree with you, Jim Bob. It brightens my day to spend a second or two acknowledging another human being with whom I have come in contact.