Speedy the Mail Carrier Meet Mr. Wendy’s
I had a not so shining moment today as I stood in my front yard yelling at Speedy, the local mail carrier, to slow her role when cruising through my neighborhood. I had the same beef with my old mail carrier. She would fly on by without a care in the world. You can imagine my excitement when I saw a new red truck and a fresh face pull up to my little black box. That thrill was short-lived when she decided the long stretch of road in front of my house might be great practice for her future drag racing career. And apparently since I work from home now and get to be intimately aware of all the neighborhood happenings, I’ve gone from hip, chic working mom to…well, the lady that tattles on the mail carrier. I’m a little embarrassed by a vision I have of letting my 100 plus pound German Shepherd out at just the right time, to give a little mail delivery greeting of course. Then again, that could be counter productive and force her to take off much faster than when she came.
I called and reported her, for I don’t know, the 3rd time probably. I’m that nagging neighborhood mother bear giving the same familiar speech, “Listen, I don’t want to get anyone in trouble, but there are a LOT of kids in this neighborhood, and I have a 3 year old too. Someone is going to get killed. And let me tell you mister, you don’t want to see me if my child gets hurt! Have a nice day.”
I don’t HATE my mail carrier. She’s probably a really nice person. But I have a bone to pick with her and with everyone else in the world fortunate enough to be employed in a relatively decent job.
If you have a job to do, just do it right. Meaning do the actual job right and then along the way, be sure to do the right thing by your job as well.
Despite yelling like a buffoon in my front yard, this day wasn’t a total bust. In a super woman hurry, I ran through the Wendy’s drive through for a bottle of water and a chicken sandwich. I was trying to get from point A to point B and that annoying little hunger grumble just wouldn’t leave me alone. The gentleman at the window was personable and didn’t waste any time making sure my order was correct, my water was cold, and my sandwich was piping hot, all quality assurance items I’m sure he learned in his training. But as I was about to leave, he want one step further and told me to have a great day and then complimented my smile. I’m pretty sure he was the nicest clerk at a fast food restaurant I have ever come in contact with. He couldn’t have been more than 21, but it was noticeable he took a lot of pride in his job and just wanted to be good at it. A quick compliment made my day, and there’s no telling how many other people he complimented as well. He could’ve taken someone having the worst hair day ever and made them feel like they walked out of a Paul Mitchell salon. Maybe someone was so far down, a little pick me up from him was enough to pep their spirit. Who knows, but the point is he went the extra mile.
I’ve worked a lot of jobs, and at times they overlapped each other. I’ve been a waitress, hostess, sandwich maker extraordinaire, I’ve sold and folded more clothing to count, I’ve cooked on a line, I’ve been a recreation center supervisor, but only after I was the recreation center peon. I was a secretary, I even sold eyeglasses. I tutored and I was a sub. In one job, I collected crickets for fishing bait. Ick.
And even when I thought I scored a “grown up” job, I found myself doing grunt work that could only fall into the “other duties as assigned” category of my job description. I embraced my favorite slogan borrowed from Nike and told myself to “Just Do It.” And I find myself repeating that pretty often in life.
Mr. Wendy’s, as he is now dubbed, had it right today, especially when you consider what he does is not so easy and his paycheck is probably a lot less than what he deserves.
Speedy the Mail Carrier and Mr. Wendy’s should meet over a frosty some day…just sayin’.