Every Thing

Recently I wrote about "all or nothing" here. I've been thinking about the difference between all and everything. The emphasis of my job at the store is to give the customers the best possible experience. I want to exceed their expectations. Part of how I do that is to work with the cashiers so that they can adhere to company policies and standards, but interpret them with their own unique personalities.

I am a happy person. I love people. I register pretty high on the perky scale. That is me. If a more reserved person imitated me, it would come across to the customer as phony. It would also not be sustainable, since trying to pretend we are someone we are not requires a ridiculous amount of effort. So as I train and coach, I encourage people to do it their way. I think it also makes a happier employee, because they feel like our store is a place where they are celebrated and appreciated.

In doing this, I have come to recognize the little quirks in the personalities of my coworkers. It is fascinating, really, because we are all so different in so many ways. The most interesting people are those who bring everything -- every little thing -- to our interactions. It's funny how we sometimes edit ourselves, how we hold back, how we parcel a little out here and there, how we try to hide what we think are our flaws, when it is the little quirks that really make us charming. It is exhausting to do that. How much easier to just give everything. Every little thing.

It has caused me to grow as a person, this bringing every little thing to my interactions. Not just the workplace, but in my everyday life as well. We expect every cashier to ask every customer every time, to open a store credit card. I can't ask them to do that if I'm not doing it. So the other day there was a kind of stuffy older lady, holding her tiny little dog in one arm, and putting her items on the counter. I exclaimed over the dog, as I always do, because I love animals. She was some sort of terrier with a pink color and leash. (The dog, not the woman.) She was a little snooty. (The woman, not the dog.) I asked her if she had heard about our credit card where she could earn rewards, and she sniffed, put her nose in the air and said, "I only use American Express." I said, "Well, then how about your dog? I bet she would love to have her own credit card." The woman burst out in the most undignified laughter, and after that you would have thought that she and I were best friends. She pushed her cart and her dog out of our store, one happy customer.

The cashier next to me also laughed, and she happens to be one of my coworkers who hates talking to customers about the credit card. I had to have a conversation with her a few weeks ago reminding her that she needed to be doing it. After the customer left, my colleague said, "Oh my god! That was hilarious!" I responded that yeah, why not make it be fun and leave the customer happy.

Now I am no comedian, but I think you and I both know I wanted to have a little fun at the lady's expense, but do it in a kind way. Because that is who I am. I am fun and I am kind. And I bring everything. Or I am learning to do that, and getting better at it all the time. I am not perfect, and there is plenty about me that could be changed or improved. Working on that, too. But I think life deserves my everything. Every thing. Every little thing. And I think when I do that, it gives others permission to bring everything, too.

"Give Me Everything" written by Pitbull

Susan