Love Letters

I'm not what you think but thanks anyway: Monolog

It's just roughly an innocent observation from a guy who doesn't really have the need and time to give derogatory remarks just to make offense; but this could beneficially be a kind reminder of how some of you have so often been unfair to yourselves and others by immediately seeing the extra need to suddenly be twice as willing a humble, friendly, kind service provider just because you think you are in the face of a foreigner who happens to speak a language not of your mother's tongue so convincingly eloquent.
The Pizza Guy at your service

The hospitality business in general requires a great deal of kindness in treating others as your equal, -equally. Providing for the needs of your equals with respect -as you would want yourself to be treated- is not entirely easy. Not everyone was born with the knack for serving others sincerely without any grudge. Heck, lots would reasonably want to be the spoiled brat of a king instead with no complaints. No arguments there.

The argument and apparent problem, however, occurs when you as a casual customer could sense that the level of service you receive from the hospitality front liners seems to alter between different individuals: one having the extra portion of a warmhearted smile of a service than the other. Of course, this is perhaps conciously unintentional but customers could be intolerable enough not to let it pass by without any effort of at least questioning what is rightfully theirs.

Again, this is only mere observation –hopefully innocent still– from the numerous encounters I have had (and also from others I have observed from afar) with the hospitality business -so it is called- which I have much respect. It is not a generalization in anyway intended.

One recent example I could immediately remember is when I went to this certain cafe here in the city. I came, sat, and waited long enough to get an initial idea of how good the service was actually as the friendly waiter came not long after to hand me the menu. After a quick skim of the overpriced food and drinks, Winters and I were ready to ask the all smiley waiter to provide our needs -from what's in the menu, that is; and still having to pay for it afterwards, of course-.

The waiter came and asked us what it would be. Me, -with no other specific purpose other than to order some food for my starving belly- naturally responded by simply reading what's written there in the menu in my own accent: "I'll have bla-bla-bla, please. Thanks." (bla-bla-bla being the catchy name of the food I'm ordering which was in English). That's it.

She responded -so I sensed- with an improved tone of service level as she offered to show me the list of drinks available for me to order. All as if I'm not from around here somehow, as if I'm not her own, as if I'm a foreigner. She has taken me for what I am not and adjusted her approach in providing her service. I mean, you can sense things like that, right. But I don't know, maybe I'm just too sensibly sensitive. Or maybe it's just that night.

I don't really see the necessity of adjusting your service level just because you think the person you're providing service to is not from where you are. High standard service level should be the same for everyone equally. It should not be adjustable by the way people look or how they speak. We are your equals, you know. We are not some colonialists demanding your heart and soul for our personal delights to exploit. We're customers. We respect you to treat us the same. For we do respect you the same.

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