Decades ago in an upscale department store, an irate middle-aged woman argued with the uncomfortable young lass at the counter. It was about some price, some transaction, some rude dressing room attendant or something that was just enough to push the innocent customer to the edge. There was violence in her eyes. She wanted blood.
"I'm so sorry," the flustered employee said for the fifteenth time, realizing that nothing she said was reaching through this woman's fury. It was time for the big guns. Time to get the manager. She was a tall redhead (Picture a Joan Harris type) with no-nonsense shoes and an equivocal smile. She battled for a few minutes, grew bored, and then threw up her hands with a dramatic "Of course, the customer is always right" and gave the woman her money back or a gift certificate or an ego boost or whatever it was that she so desperately, passionately, needed. It was meant as a snide remark—a veiled insult—but the customer missed the sarcasm, and to this day, knuckleheads around the world expect to be treated like gods everywhere from Olive Garden to the public parking garage, and employees take it with a forced smile and an acrid verbal attack once the perpetrator has exited the vicinity.
Politeness. Niceness. Customer service isn't the only field where these societal facades have replaced the belief that honesty is the best policy. The workplace, the gym, heck, family Christmases have all been infiltrated. The human race has been worrying about pretending to get along with people they can't stand for so long that we've lost the ability to express ourselves honestly anywhere other than behind the backs of the people that piss us off the most.
Would the world be a better place if we all told each other when we were acting like monkeys' behinds? Does the facade of politeness contribute to anything besides increasing disagreeable peoples' feelings of entitlement, creating generation upon generation of condescending, unreasonable sausage squashers?
People, wake up! There are waffles here for the taking.
The woman from the story, for example. One could argue that she wasn't at fault because she was simply spouting out her honest opinion at a high volume. This is true. It is also true that if the employee had said: "Hey, lady, you're kind of acting like a baboon. I'm willing to help you if you'd just settle the f down and let us have a civil exchange," that the already furious customer would have stabbed the employee in the neck with her umbrella. People in the customer service industry are all about avoiding escalation for this very reason. But what about the escalation of pent-up rage inside those trying to keep their mouths shut to avoid insulting anyone, or being mean, or coming across as a jerk? Society encourages being two-faced: one face smiling through a massive stinky dump of misplaced aggression and the other snarling. We all have pride. We all have the occasional urge to throat punch the people that poop on that pride. And the more the poop piles up, the more vivid the throat-punching fantasies become. We replay incidents in our heads adding witty insults and dramatic exits. We rehearse calculated retorts to made-up conversations. We get madder and madder about things the people we dislike haven't even done (yet). We make ourselves into time bombs.
The irate lady at the store? She hated the way a certain friend always commented on what she was eating. That rude waiter? Doesn't get along with his brother. That frowning intellectual? Is irritated to pieces by her coworker belittling her English degree. It's just a big, fat circle of repression spewing unhappiness and cynicism.
WHAT IF:
Being called out for being unreasonable wasn't an isolated incident, but THE NORM? What if instead of gossiping about ridiculous people, we all just said: "Hey, you're being ridiculous" and we didn't have to worry about making things awkward, causing a fight, or getting fired? Screw hierarchy, social norms, and business, let's just get real. Lives would change by making even the least-personal interactions more positive. We'd learn everything about ourselves —our flaws, our strengths, that we shouldn't shop when we're hungry, that we have room for improvement.
It's a scary thought. We may not like what we find out. But honestly people, it might just be worth a shot.
"I'm so sorry," the flustered employee said for the fifteenth time, realizing that nothing she said was reaching through this woman's fury. It was time for the big guns. Time to get the manager. She was a tall redhead (Picture a Joan Harris type) with no-nonsense shoes and an equivocal smile. She battled for a few minutes, grew bored, and then threw up her hands with a dramatic "Of course, the customer is always right" and gave the woman her money back or a gift certificate or an ego boost or whatever it was that she so desperately, passionately, needed. It was meant as a snide remark—a veiled insult—but the customer missed the sarcasm, and to this day, knuckleheads around the world expect to be treated like gods everywhere from Olive Garden to the public parking garage, and employees take it with a forced smile and an acrid verbal attack once the perpetrator has exited the vicinity.
Politeness. Niceness. Customer service isn't the only field where these societal facades have replaced the belief that honesty is the best policy. The workplace, the gym, heck, family Christmases have all been infiltrated. The human race has been worrying about pretending to get along with people they can't stand for so long that we've lost the ability to express ourselves honestly anywhere other than behind the backs of the people that piss us off the most.
Would the world be a better place if we all told each other when we were acting like monkeys' behinds? Does the facade of politeness contribute to anything besides increasing disagreeable peoples' feelings of entitlement, creating generation upon generation of condescending, unreasonable sausage squashers?
People, wake up! There are waffles here for the taking.
The woman from the story, for example. One could argue that she wasn't at fault because she was simply spouting out her honest opinion at a high volume. This is true. It is also true that if the employee had said: "Hey, lady, you're kind of acting like a baboon. I'm willing to help you if you'd just settle the f down and let us have a civil exchange," that the already furious customer would have stabbed the employee in the neck with her umbrella. People in the customer service industry are all about avoiding escalation for this very reason. But what about the escalation of pent-up rage inside those trying to keep their mouths shut to avoid insulting anyone, or being mean, or coming across as a jerk? Society encourages being two-faced: one face smiling through a massive stinky dump of misplaced aggression and the other snarling. We all have pride. We all have the occasional urge to throat punch the people that poop on that pride. And the more the poop piles up, the more vivid the throat-punching fantasies become. We replay incidents in our heads adding witty insults and dramatic exits. We rehearse calculated retorts to made-up conversations. We get madder and madder about things the people we dislike haven't even done (yet). We make ourselves into time bombs.
The irate lady at the store? She hated the way a certain friend always commented on what she was eating. That rude waiter? Doesn't get along with his brother. That frowning intellectual? Is irritated to pieces by her coworker belittling her English degree. It's just a big, fat circle of repression spewing unhappiness and cynicism.
WHAT IF:
Being called out for being unreasonable wasn't an isolated incident, but THE NORM? What if instead of gossiping about ridiculous people, we all just said: "Hey, you're being ridiculous" and we didn't have to worry about making things awkward, causing a fight, or getting fired? Screw hierarchy, social norms, and business, let's just get real. Lives would change by making even the least-personal interactions more positive. We'd learn everything about ourselves —our flaws, our strengths, that we shouldn't shop when we're hungry, that we have room for improvement.
It's a scary thought. We may not like what we find out. But honestly people, it might just be worth a shot.
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