I'm fascinated by your delight in having the barista call you by your name. For me, that sort of fake and unsolicited intimacy from a stranger would be a solid reason to take my business elsewhere. I give a fake name when asked -- giving someone my name gives them power and it's none of their business unless I decide so.
I'm increasingly distrubed with the ease that even friends ask for personal information as if it's their right. It used to never be okay to ask someone their age, but now people do it all the time -- even strangers! -- and the answer is always, none of your business.
And I must say, it was with a heavy heart that I read your pronouncement that you know magic isn't real. I hope someday you might discover that there's ample reason to open to the possibility that magic is very real. Certainly I've experienced it enough to feel that I know otherwise. Magic is just a part of the world we don't yet understand.
Stay cozy, my friend. And I hope Ashley loves her shimmery gift!!!! (I will stay far away from the tipping question, just like the gender and god questions...)
Within the context of customer service, using a name throughout an interaction, at least in this case, was a stand-in for the idea of paying attention or being present. Good customer service isn't necessarily about any cadre of specific behaviors but performing those behaviors with the right intent. For instance, when I worked at Subway as a teen, we had a rule where we had to greet a customer within three seconds of them entering the store. It was a stupid rule because several teenagers bellowing "Welcome to Subway" did not make customers feel like individuals or welcome; we were obviously just robotically following instructions. On the other hand, when I was serving a customer, I made eye contact, listened, and made beautiful sandwiches to their specifications. It was clear that, at that moment, I was there just for them (because I felt that way). I called regular customers by name and mostly remembered their orders. I didn't feel as if we were friends and I didn't know anything else about them. Despite that, the rapport we had in that simple context made their every trip to my Subway a moment that made their day better.
Regarding magic, that too was specific to the understanding between a magician and audience. We know their job is to fool us but we don't go shouting out how that tricks are done even if we know. Even in that case we aim to be amazed by their competence. Re. magic as you mean it, refer back to my God essay. All that I don't understand (most of it), may as well be magic, lacking any other name.
I'm fascinated by your delight in having the barista call you by your name. For me, that sort of fake and unsolicited intimacy from a stranger would be a solid reason to take my business elsewhere. I give a fake name when asked -- giving someone my name gives them power and it's none of their business unless I decide so.
I'm increasingly distrubed with the ease that even friends ask for personal information as if it's their right. It used to never be okay to ask someone their age, but now people do it all the time -- even strangers! -- and the answer is always, none of your business.
And I must say, it was with a heavy heart that I read your pronouncement that you know magic isn't real. I hope someday you might discover that there's ample reason to open to the possibility that magic is very real. Certainly I've experienced it enough to feel that I know otherwise. Magic is just a part of the world we don't yet understand.
Stay cozy, my friend. And I hope Ashley loves her shimmery gift!!!! (I will stay far away from the tipping question, just like the gender and god questions...)
Within the context of customer service, using a name throughout an interaction, at least in this case, was a stand-in for the idea of paying attention or being present. Good customer service isn't necessarily about any cadre of specific behaviors but performing those behaviors with the right intent. For instance, when I worked at Subway as a teen, we had a rule where we had to greet a customer within three seconds of them entering the store. It was a stupid rule because several teenagers bellowing "Welcome to Subway" did not make customers feel like individuals or welcome; we were obviously just robotically following instructions. On the other hand, when I was serving a customer, I made eye contact, listened, and made beautiful sandwiches to their specifications. It was clear that, at that moment, I was there just for them (because I felt that way). I called regular customers by name and mostly remembered their orders. I didn't feel as if we were friends and I didn't know anything else about them. Despite that, the rapport we had in that simple context made their every trip to my Subway a moment that made their day better.
Regarding magic, that too was specific to the understanding between a magician and audience. We know their job is to fool us but we don't go shouting out how that tricks are done even if we know. Even in that case we aim to be amazed by their competence. Re. magic as you mean it, refer back to my God essay. All that I don't understand (most of it), may as well be magic, lacking any other name.
Also, Ashley liked the gift! :)
Ah, see, hence the distinction between magic (magicians) and magick (the real stuff)...!
PS I'm laughing out loud at college students yelling "Welcome to Subway!" at a startled customer!!!
They were high school students! Slightly higher pitch.