I must tell you about a recent stop at a gas station. It was a station I encountered during our recent trip south of the border for that family reunion I wrote about last week. I pulled up to a self-serve pump in Maryland. I unhitched the nozzle, flipped the fill switch and waited for the read-out to zero. It didn’t. I tried again, but then went inside to talk to the cashier.
“You gotta pay first,” the woman said rather brusquely.
“I want to fill the tank, but since I’m not used to gallons, I’m not sure how much it’ll be,” I said.
“Gimme your credit card, then,” she said as if I was bothering her with my business. I was a bit surprised at her attitude, but I gave her the card, went back to the pump and repeated the procedure. Nothing happened. No approval. No zeroes. No gas. So I went back inside to explain.
“Look,” she said, as if I were a nuisance child. “I approved the card. It should work.” I had done everything she demanded, but still no gas. “Must be something wrong with your card,” she said and she swiped the card again and it worked. So, after about five minutes of dashing back and forth and feeling as if this was all my fault, I managed to fill the tank, went in, paid and waited for an expected, “Thank you.” But it never came.
I have always understood that Americans treated tourists better than any other nation on the planet. I have always believed that the culture that created the Almighty U.S. Dollar knew better than anybody, the value of tourist investment and consequently the need for good public relations. But that gas station cashier couldn’t even muster a “Thank you” as in “Thank you for your business.” Let alone “Thank you for tolerating my mistake.” I was stunned. I couldn’t believe how someone in a front-line service business could be so forgetful of the most basic courtesy.
Because members of my family have worked in numerous aspects of the service industry – as restaurateurs, bakers, travel agents, and even the piecemeal fur business – that part of enterprise has always been a given. When you deal with the public, my grandfather used to say, remember that they’re always right! And, while my grandparents never got rich serving the public, they rarely offended anyone by not remembering the basic importance of a “thank you” for the investment of time, interest and a purchase.
It rubbed off on me the summer of 1965 when I worked in my uncle’s restaurant – a diner in Maryland – and learned that being a busboy really had nothing to do with stocking shelves, cleaning tables, mopping floors or assisting waitresses and short-order cooks. It really had to do with being on the public relations front line when things went wrong.
Busboys, being the youngest and least skilled on the staff, regularly got the call when a food order had to be replaced, a booth had to be repaired, or something missing from the eating experience was finally delivered. We were the lowest members of the food chain, as it were, but perhaps the most important. We were always encouraged to offer the apologies, (if need be) accept the blame and certainly deliver the thanks for the business as we passed customers arriving and departing the restaurant. “Thank you” was the first and foremost tool in our verbal repair kit.
I’ve often thought that the big community colleges and hospitality schools across this country and in the United States need to have curriculum and course of study revamped. Sure they have to teach students of the service industry to know their given profession, whether it’s in the hotel, restaurant or other corner of the tourist industry.
But on top of all that highly technical and sophisticated service training to become chefs, hoteliers, sommeliers, chauffeurs, concierges, valets and the like, the architects of service education really ought to include instruction in a course simply called “Thank you.” It’s a simple lesson that every tourist spot, mall, village and city with a foot in the service industry should consider learning.