Of Waiters & Character

If, “you can tell a lot about a person by the way they treat the waiter,” then too many of those who can afford to go out to dinner are lacking in more than basic civility.

It is not just waiters. Several years ago when I had an enviable title and worked for one of the most articulate and seemingly gentle of men, I was perplexed by his poor treatment of not only his own secretary, but mine and his bosses’ too. I never fully trusted him. His behavior was predicated upon education, status and station. And it turned out I was right to be wary.

My father, “The Major” – as my brothers and I fondly referred to him – never, ever told us anything about how we should treat waiters. But Dad used the names of barbers, clerks, dry cleaners, tellers, waiters, busgirls, secretaries, and the attendants who filled his car with gas.*

Dad was always kind and patient, even when there was something wrong and he needed to be firm. He never bullied anyone, even when I thought they clearly deserved it. He never rolled his eyes. He never even sighed loudly. And despite his rank, and even when he gave “lawful orders” to subordinates, he always couched it in terms of a request, complete with a “please.” He always thanks people for what they do.

He is the consummate egalitarian. He really doesn’t believe his education, rank, age, political affiliation, or religion makes him superior to anyone. He is, in short, the gentleman I’d like to be, and a man of high moral character.

One of my own experiences in the military almost three decades ago still evokes feelings of relief and appreciation for my Father. My Training Sergeant discovered he had worked for my Dad. As the realization dawned on both of us, I experienced a feeling you can only understand if you know what it is like to have your life in the hands of an unpredictable and all-powerful NCO.

My relief was obvious when Sgt. Berger told me that my Father was “tough but fair and one of the kindest, most competent officers” in the Air Force. (As a former NCO myself, I know just how rare a breed that “competent officer” is – and a kind AND competent officer is even more scarce.)

I am personally embarrassed and angered, when I see someone berate a waiter, yell at a cashier, mistreat a busgirl, embarrass a secretary, or abuse a teller. I apologize for the bad behavior. I smile and joke with them. (I learned that from Dad too.)

If I have previously associated with the bully voluntarily, I will be far too busy to spend any social time with them thereafter. And if I have little or no choice of association, I am apt to limit the time I have to spend with them to only the necessary.

I’m apparently not alone in my feelings on this subject. I recently came across copy of an article in USA Today from 2006 that I’ve kept with the stuff I just can’t throw away.

The article says that CEO’s overwhelmingly agree with Bill Swanson’s adage about character and the treatment of waiters. **

From a purely observational point of view, I’d say that we are showing less character in public than we were a few years ago, and the trend is getting worse.

If you are interviewing for jobs, you might want to remember that CEOs and hiring managers often pay attention to all kinds of behavior. (JC Penny, a Utah Mason and Millionaire Retailer, apparently would not hire anyone who seasoned their food without tasting it first.)
If an interviewer thinks your character is lacking because you were curt or rude with their admin, it can be as deadly as un-shined shoes.

These days, as we mourn the passing of good economic times, we need more men and women with character and fewer that are characters. And if Bill Swanson is correct, the waiters will know we are getting there before the rest of us.


* Cultural note for my children: In the “olden days” we didn’t fill our auto’s gas tank. Guys in dark uniform shirts, greasy jeans and dirty Converse, poked their head into our driver-side window, usually wiping the grease from their hands with a stained shop-towel, and ask “what’ll it be?” We’d reply something like, “Filler up with high-test,” or something similar. These guys were invariably named “Bob” and I grew up thinking I my parents didn’t want me pumping gas because they didn’t name me “Bob.”


** USA Today, “CEOs say how you treat a waiter can predict a lot about character,” by Del Jones, 04.17.2006.