Let’s lead off with a great customer service story from Dawn on my entry about notaries:
Every Sunday I get a bagel and tea for breakfast. I used to go to an Einstein’s in the city that was closer to where I lived, but after a year of going there and ordering the same thing every week they were still giving me blank looks. I don’t expect them to know my name, but they could at least show that they recognize me.
I started going to the one in Richmond Heights, and after six months there was one worker who would start making my tea when I walked in the door. He’s shift manager now, which makes me really happy because his bosses must be paying attention. Actually, there are several workers there who recognize me and some other people who come in all the time. Any time I have a big order I go to them because I want to give them the business, and I haven’t been to the other location since. All because the workers made the effort to recognize repeat customers.
Sarah’s story about being The Forgotten is laugh-out-loud hilarious (and astonishing).
I have been The Forgotten.
My harrowing tale: When I was young and innocent, my family’s car was a 1967 Pontiac station wagon with faulty door latches and no seat belts. If memory serves, every member of my family fell out of that car at least once. My time came as the car took a tight right turn at our town’s only stoplight. The door next to my seat yawned open and the car actively ejected me onto the street. As I rolled along the pavement then jumped to my feet, I watched our family car as it continued driving away. My sisters were turned around, peeking over the back seat staring at me as I tried to run to catch up with the car.
They said nothing to my parents. Ergo, my parents just kept on driving.
45 minutes later, AFTER the family got home, AFTER my parents did a head count, AFTER I had walked several miles toward home limping and bleeding from scrapes all over my body, they finally realized they were missing someone and came back to get me.
Life is hard for The Forgotten. I will never be the same again.
Emma had a really cool comment about an experience she had in high school that helped her understand what her dream job truly entailed:
I was personally incredibly lucky to have an amazing man start a program at my high school called “Education to Careers and Professions”. This semester class my senior year entailed researching and writing a 15-page report about the field I thought I wanted, (including what type of personality thrives there, taking diagnostic tests, etc), job shadowing a professional 3 days a week (during the school day), and making a final presentation to the entire class.
I think the number of kids who left high school either with a career in mind or a career added to the “no” list was notable. As you said Jamey, there is wanting to be something and there is liking the idea of being something. And not many high schoolers really explore that before spending a gazillion dollars on a higher education with a major picked haphazardly or getting stuck in a job they hate.
Mad props to Mr. Changnon! http://www.champaignschools.org/ecp/
Also, speaking of comments, I’d like to start doing a live chat on the blog from time to time, maybe once a week. It would use the comments section as normal, but I’d pick a specific post and be available “live” for the conversation. I just thought it might be cool if people knew they’d get replies to their comments right away–not just from me, but from other readers as well. Any thoughts or suggestions on days/times?