Gratuities and Gratitude

I was on an airplane recently, standing in the back of the plane, waiting for the 28 rows in front of me to exit. I happened to be next to the rear galley, where I engaged in a conversation with one of the flight attendants. She was remarking about a particularly rude passenger when she made the general comment "I don't understand why people can't take the time to thank the flight attendants when they leave the plane."

The more I reflected on her comment, the more I disagreed. If the plane had crashed and the attendant kept me safe, I would certainly thank her. Or, if she had gone out of her way to help me with a unique problem during the flight. Otherwise, the only thing she did during the flight was her job. She did the safety briefing, passed out little beverage cups (which were limited to water, coffee or orange juice), and rapidly collected the trash in a model of efficiency that maximized her ass time for the rest of the flight.

I wanted to ask her if she ever took a prescription pain reliever. I work for a pharmaceutical manufacturer, and put in 60 hour weeks to guarantee a supply of prescription pain relievers. I wonder why she didn't thank me for doing my job. Without me, she might have pain that can't be treated. I volunteer as an emergency responder in her community, yet I don't ever recall her thanking me for that service. Without me, her safety might be compromised. I bust my ass at work and pour my soul into make a good product. I can't ever remember someone coming up to me and thanking me for my contribution.

During the same trip, I saw a paper cup taped to the side of the cash register at a TCBY counter with a "Tips" sign fabricated behind the cup. Why would I tip the airport TCBY employee? This particular counter handled breakfast - coffee and donuts. It was a self-serve donut rack, and a pour-your-own coffee service. So, the net extent of the employee's service was to pull a Styrofoam cup from a stack, hand it to me, and take my money. AND THEY EXPECT A TIP? "Thank you for not damaging the cup as you expertly removed it from the stack - here's a buck." Give me a break. The next time you're at a pharmacy, leave a dollar or two for me as a tip for my good work at the factory.

The bottom line is that we have become an entitlement society. We expect to reap benefits - tips or thank-yous - for minimal effort. Get over yourselves, people. You have to work - it is a basic requirement of society. Tips, thank-yous, and other expressions of gratitude are mine to give. And I choose to give them when someone goes beyond the basic requirements and does a lot more than what was expected. So, if I don't get all appreciative the next time you do exactly what you're paid to do, deal with it.

(If you enjoyed the prose, tips are appreciated - all major credit cards are accepted).

Travel Idiot Savants

I'm in a Holiday Inn Express that, for reasons unknown to me, requires the use of the room key to activate the elevator. Personally, I thought my Priority Club points had gotten me to the "your floor needs a special key" level - then I remembered it was Holiday Inn.

Anyway, I'm at the front desk to intellectually challenge the night shift associate in a game of Can You Find Me Some More Pillows. Before it's my turn, I'm watching a stellar pair of specimens from California negotiate a late checkout. The wife wants to jump right to cutting a financial deal with the front desk's master, to get her a check out time of "as late as possible." The husband interrupts, asking about the hotel's late checkout policy. The wife counter's her husband's query with the "I'm talking here" statement, and returns to trying to purchase a late checkout. At this point, I'm ready to take $20 from the mental giants and let them use my room as long as they want. The Einstein twins move towards the elevator. I hang for 5 minutes as the desk clerk navigates the housekeeping stores for pillows. To pass the time, I watch a large contingent of Japanese teenage girls (who speak absolutely no English) file through the halls. I've learned its best not to even wonder, and just let surreal events be. And then the pillows are presented. I make my way to the elevators and jab the button. Car 3 opens up, and I'm greeted by the Californians. Lady genius starts to get off, but man genius recognizes that they are still on the first floor. Apparently the directions about using your key to activate the elevator were completely lost on these two. The large sign with 2" letters was also lost on the 2 brain cells in the car. What impresses me the most is that, given the time I was at the desk, these two have been standing in an elevator for more than 5 minutes without any sign of movement. I once rode the elevator to the top of the Sears tower, and it took less than 1 minute. Lucky for them I came along and saved them from their elevator hell.

The following morning, I'm helping myself to the free milk and cereal in the breakfast room. The dude in front of me is struggling with the milk dispenser. It is the variety that consists of a big cooler with big boxes of milk, with a plastic tube that drops through a little metal pinch valve. Milk dude is attempting to reconcile the fine differences between 2% and skim, but quickly gets shut down completely by the dispensing mechanism. I tell him to lift the metal lever, and turn to observe another heard of Japanese girls. When I look back, my breakfast buddy is attempting to massage the plastic milk tube with his fingers. In his world, I guess it looked like a cows tit, and he'd go with what he knows. Then I recognized him as the elevator man.

These people should not be allowed to leave the home. It's just wrong.