Wednesday, February 7

Praise Buddha!

More power to these flight attendants! When I first heard this story, it was on the evening news playing in my front room, and I was just listening to it from the other room. I was appalled that the airline kicked off the family because the child was crying. And then I walked into the room to see the story, and saw the girl. The THREE year old girl. And I was happy. These flight attendants have a job to do, and just because it was a small child that was kicked off we should feel bad? If any other demographic refused to get in their seat, they would have been kicked off and it wouldn't have even made the news. The irony of the whole deal is that as I watched it, the parents were on this news program pleading their sob story and at no point during the interview would this girl sit down. Even at her own home her parents couldn't get her to sit still for a 5 minute interview.

As a member of the service industry, I applaud these flight attendants. They were at work. Their job is to get that plane ready to take off safely and on time. They did their job. I have no doubt that during the flight other passengers were rude or inconsiderate to them. It's a big part of working in the service industry. And I'm tired of it.

We have become such a "the customer is always right" society that even manners fall by the wayside. I was at Subway the other day. The lady in front of me was ordering sandwiches for her family, while on the phone, and the workers were trying to get her order right. She wasn't paying attention, so they wrapped up her last sandwich without any condiments because she wasn't responding that she wanted any. She realized that she hadn't told them what she wanted and started yelling, asking them what was on her sandwich if she didn't tell them what she wanted. She kicked and screamed and threw a tantrum as they opened her sandwich back up to put the condiments on. Not once in her experience did she say "please," "thank you" or even project a positive, or even civil, tone. And the Sandwich Artists, who I praise for their work of making yummy delicious meals for me, had to smile, thank her, and invite her back soon.

Bullshit.

I work in a restaurant. Recently minimum wage for tipped positions was raised to $3.75 and hour. Before January it was $2.13. I can't count how many times I have heard my fellow service industry members say, "I don't make enough money to put up with this," or "I don't get paid enough to be treated this way." There shouldn't be an "enough" in this case. What is enough money to be looked down upon or yelled at? Is there a price to be treated like less than a person? Not for me. I walk away silently from someone who takes it to that level. I will not e treated that way. I have been yelled at and about (to managers, etc.). I have been stared at, and up and down, scowled at, scoffed at, etc. I have had things thrown at me. All just to make a buck. And I'm sure I haven't even experienced close to the worst of it.

You aren't better than me because you tip me. I'm not better than you because you're rude. You aren't smarter than me because I write down what you say and put it in a computer. I don't work for you. You are not my employer. Your return address isn't on my W2 come January.

A girl I work with tries to deal with rude people by thinking that maybe they're going through a rough time. Again, I call bullshit. There is no excuse to be rude to a perfect stranger because of what you are going through. If you can't summon a smile, "please," "thank you"; if you can't let me finish my sentence before you interrupt me to tell me you'd like a Coke; if you can't listen well enough to know that the response to, "How are you doing today?" is not, "I'll have an iced tea"; don't come out into public. People treat beggars and dogs better than they treat people in the service industry. I have seen it, felt it and watched it happen to others.

And I say bullshit.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Amen sista, i totally agree with every word of that.

Anonymous said...

Well said.