A Stitch in Time, John William Godward
Having worked my way through college as a waitress, sales clerk, and assistant manager in retail, I absolutely agree with violentacres. I don’t understand the loss of courtesy and respect that rages like a virus in current society. It makes me sad, and angry too, and I wish I had a portion of violent acres’s backbone.
Although I must say, years ago one night when I worked the graveyard shift at a coffee shop, a group of guys came in for coffee and pie. They sat at the counter. I was alone that night and slammed, but I introduced myself with a smile, got their coffee and pie slices and hustled out to wait on new customers who’d just walked in, giving me full tables all around.
While I was busy, busy with the new folk one of the guys at the counter apparently finished his coffee, and as I came back with my orders and grabbed the freshly-brewed pot to make my rounds, he rapped his coffee mug on the counter. I headed his way with the fresh pot and refilled his mug. As I poured, I looked him in the eye and told him the next time he rapped that mug on the counter he was going to be wearing it. His buddies laughed, and when he was ready for another cup again, he called me by name and made a polite request for a refill the next time I trotted round the counter after carrying out an armload of food.
I wouldn’t have minded if he’d raised his hand or called over to me as I rushed about. Rapping the mug (or whistling or snapping the fingers–must give him credit for not doing one of those) was a no-no. (Yes, this is why I do not work with the public.)
I was raised to be polite. I tip generously, don’t huff and puff when something goes wrong, and I do not treat other people like they were born to serve me.