From her Beacon-Hand Glows World-Wide Welcome

I've had enough experience in the food industry (Here at Coldstone we sing songs doo da doo da...) to know that the success of a server is deep rooted in his or her success as a customer. We, as hungry and thirsty customers, appreciate certain characteristics in servers and well, strongly dislike others. And it is important for servers to keep these characteristics top of mind. It is in our power to be as annoying or as patient as we want. After all, we are paying. But it is the duty of the food server to be most polite and accommodating.

I like to think of myself as a five-star customer (and a five-star ice cream server as well!). When I have reached the front of the line, I have chosen my food or drink or choice, I have my wallet out, and I have ceased all face-to-face and phone conversations. I smile and reciprocate any formality the server may send my way (i.e. "How is your day going?") And while I'm not getting paid, there are ample benefits. At Starbucks, for example, a couple of the baristas greet me by name and once in a while, "accidentally" give me a Grande instead of a Tall. At Saxbys Coffee, a free drink is in my near future.

So when I have poor customer experiences, I have no choice but to blame the other party. It's them, not me. I am having trouble understanding why a worker at Einstein Bros. chose to respond to a text from her boyfriend while I just stared at her, already having ordered my chai. Or why, a sandwich "artist" at Subway refused to wrap my sandwich because his shift was over and his relief was tardy (yes, I just stared at my sandwich through the sneeze guard).

At Starbucks, the customer is always right. At Coldstone, every customer is greeted as he or she walks in through the door. No questions asked. The truth, though, is that this is nothing but policy. Sure, the baristas at Starbucks may be genuinely "nice" people, but let's face it, our big-city brains aren't wired for eight hours of pure niceties when it comes to strangers. At Coldstone, my permanent smile came out of fear. Fear that one of the people walking in through the door was a "secret shopper." Secret shoppers were undercover corporate officials who went door to door to the store locations rating employees and submitting assessments to the store and reports to headquarters.

But every food server is not a sick corporate robot. Just this year, I discovered Rami's, a Middle Eastern food cart that serves a mean falafel and unbelievable customer service. The first time I arrived at Rami's, Sami, the seventy-year-old owner, popped his head out and greeted me. "Hello beautiful! What you like to eat?" I gave him my order and he disappeared into the back. A few moments later he looked up at me and said, "To eat now, or later?" "Later," I responded (that's the only way you can get a bag!). "But eat it soon okay? That's how it will be fresh and nice like you!" "That's $3.75." I gave him a 5 dollar bill. "Out of nice 5," he said. He's doesn't just compliment me, he compliments my money! I thought to myself. He handed me my change which I sort of held between two fingers in an effort to grab my bag in addition to my water bottle and phone. "No! Take your time. Put your money away. I can wait!" Finally ready to go, I took my bag from him. "Have a beauuutiful day! Stay happy, stay healthy!" Now that is service. And after going there for the first time in September, I have made weekly trips, and sometimes multiple trips a week. The falafel is great, but the experience makes the falafel even better.

I recently learned that Sami is suffering from skin cancer. Additionally, the recession has taken a toll on him and his family. Struggling to make ends meet, he may have moved back to Beirut by the time winter rolls around. Coming across this information gave me the most empty, gut-wrenching feeling possible. Here was the exemplar of of well, everything, suffering. Why him? He is just true to what he does and downright genuine about it. Previously a real-estate developer in Lebanon, it is safe to say that Rami's isn't about the money for him. I am dreading the day I see nothing but dirt and dead leaves in the spot that the food cart now stands.

In my brief interactions with Sami through these past couple months, I have learned so much about business and how to hook the customer. I've also witnessed the pure kindness and genuineness that exists in this world. The love and care that one can have for his job and humanity in general. Sami emigrated here over twenty years ago in pursuit of the illustrious American dream. But if you ask me, in this corporate nation where it's all about getting the job "done," we in America can only dream that more workers are like Sami.