Am I wasting my time or they are?

Wasting time is a crime, so I think, but is it?

I guess the answer depends on what you define as a waste of time is. I have such a weakness in feeling that others waste my time in certain circumstances. One such situation occurred when my huband and I attempted to order a few 99 cent/a dollar specials on the menu at the well known burger establishment. I was not willing to allow someone to waste my time or our time that I was willing to pay a few extra bucks. Is it the problem with our common sense issue or lesson on flexibility or education on how to deal with customers or ??? It was such a small incident that does not deserve my time but ironically, I am now intentionally choosing to let it waste my time!

Because, all we needed was just a bit of snack while on the road with only another 3 hours to get home, we asked the attendant that we wanted to order two orders of 1 dollar burgers and two orders of 1 dollar french fries. The young lady replied while looking over the area french fries are fried, that they were out of the fries. My husband was puzzled since he saw a mound of french fries behind the counter. The lady repeated that she was out of it. She then elaborated by saying that she was out of the 1 dollar fries because she was out of the containers meant for the 1 dollar french fries. They did have plenty of fries. So, I asked, since it was the problem with the containers, could she give us two orders anyway using the regular larger container filling only half way up. The lady at the counter looked extremely confused and she stared at me with a blank stare, so blank that I wondered if she was on drugs. Maybe she was, after all, the location was not in the best section of town in southern alabama city. My generous and patient husband would have explained to this lady as he would to a troubled freshman chemistry student. Then I realized that our time was more precious than saving a few dollars. We just ordered regularly priced french fries on the menu so she can ring it up and we can get our food to go.

Then, I realized that a similar thing happened to me at a well known establishment for our favorite caffeinated beverage. They were out of the middle size cup that I ordered. So, the young man at the counter apologetically asked if I would be so gracious to accept the largest cup for the price of the middle size cup. Of course, I said, that would not be a problem. He did not fill it half way but he filled it all the way to the brim. As he handed me the cup, he apologized for being out of the size that I really wanted.

Some encounters on our daily life expose us to such vulnerability. None of us are immune to the tendency to be irritated. I am way above average with the sensitivity to situations that cause irritability, I would admit. Meaning that you can irritate me with just about anything, which is really an awful admittance but it is perhaps the greatest truth about me. As I sat in the car after the brief visit to the burger place, I pondered rather deeply whether it was the patience or intolerance that I exhibited when I paid extra to avoid wasting time. In my half exhausted mind after almost 3500 miles on the road in a few weeks, I simply decided that it was beyond me to figure this one out. I blurted my honest evaluation of the business, but quietly, to which my husband seconded, to my surprise. I was reminded of another incidence at one chinese restaurant in Ruston, LA right by one of the interstate exit.

This one was quite ridiculous but they did not think so. Here it goes.

My son and I stopped eat at this Chinese buffet one afternoon. When we returned to our seats with a pile of food on our plates, we sat down and began splitting the chopsticks and donning the napkins on our lap. That is when one of the server appeared at our table and matter of factly asked me, "I hope you have cash". No, this is not a typical southern greeting in restaurants in Louisiana. No, no, It is not cajun either. I remember my son's curious look when he heard this question. Come to find out that their card swipe machine decided to take a break without prior notice putting them in a bind. I asked the server if we should go, since we did not have any cash and that I did not want to cause any problem for them. I told them that I had just sat down but had not eaten a bite. I would not mind just leaving and return when their machine is up and running. The server retrieved to the background with my statement and returned a minute later. "No, ma'am, you will be fine. We will have it fixed in 15 min. You enjoy your meal".

At the end of the meal, the machine was still down and I was made to wait in line for quite a long time while they kept attempting to wake up the machine with all the chant you could think of. At the end, they decided that the machine was not available that they required me of cash in amount of 14 dollars. When I looked at the server, he quickly hid himself somewhere beyond the reach of my glaring eyes. When I told them that I would be back in a few minutes since there was a bank down the road where there is a cash machine. The man and woman at the register demanded that I leave them with my credit card and also a driver's license while I drove off to the nearby bank. They spoke to me as if I had done something wrong, therefore, I was required of presenting extra papers or documents before I could pass the checkpoint, as did during the WWII on the boarder of Poland or Russia. I could not help it but I was rather irritated. First, I could not believe that they wanted me to trust them with my credit card. Then I could not believe that they expected me to drive off without my driver's license. I thought for a moment that I should offer my son as a hostage while going off for cash.

My best offer to them was the ID card for the local university athletic facility with my own photo and full name on it. They shook their heads and said that they needed something of more importance. Yes, the local university which is probably the largest employer in the region was not significant enough for them. I refused to leave my drivers license or credit card and they were clearly stressed and quite agitated. Poor child still remembers the horror of not being able to leave the restaurant to this day and he refuses to set his foot on the restaurant. Well, I was walking out the door anyway. They demanded my husband's name, work phone number, and home phone number, which I generously shared with them.

When I returned with cash, they neither thanked me for the trouble or apologized for the inconvenience. They just grabbed the cash and returned me my ID card. I encouraged them to reconsider the way they treat customers but of course, it fell on the deaf ear. Since this happened relatively early in our stay in this town, I was quite traumatized by it. Of course, we are those little people who mean nothing to the community, thus, treating us poorly had no repercussion.

The time wasted and the energy spent dealing with the ordeal exhausted me and I was ready to move. I mean, move away, just so that i don't have to drive pass the establishment every time I get off the interstate to head home. I know it is not logical reaction, but I began to understand the irony of Southern Hospitality.

Southern hospitality is a fantastic expression, isn't it? Don't worry, I found plenty of southern hospitality demonstrated among precious friends I, since met. The hearty laughter and energetic conversations are wonderful appetizer to introduce you to the main course. Stay a while, and you will feel better. Snow or no snow, life in the south is not a waste of time. That is for sure.