Man plays piano in Prague's Airport.
Photo by Arto Alanenpää
Part of the Czech project
"Pianos on the Street".
I feel I've discussed this before (and I have), but the attempts to build a false sense of deeper connections with our customer service representatives continues to get more irksome.
Earlier today, I was having breakfast with my eldest child at a local chain breakfast restaurant, and I heard our (very pleasant and otherwise very professional) waiter ask their diners as they delivered the cheque, "So, do you have anything interesting planned today?"
To be fair, I like it when our customer service agents are polite and positive. There's a manager/cashier at my local Tim Hortons who now rrecognizes me by sight. I have a standard order. Yes, this does mean I go through their drive-thru too often, but a rapport has built up between us. I pull up to the window after I make my order, and she hands me my double stacked Farmer's Wrap ("here you go, hon"), followed by my kids Timbits ("These are your Timbits") and my coffee ("extra large, three cream"). Then she says, "you have a nice day", I thank her and wish her the same, and I drive off, and that's the extent of that.
We've made a positive connection, and one that is relevant to my reason for going out there. We've understood each other in terms of the relationship of server and customer. We've given each other what we need, we've bid each other best wishes on the day ahead, and we've moved on. What more could you ask?
I'm not sure what motivates chains like Starbucks to encourage their servers to try and delve deeper into the customer/server relationship. How does knowing a person's private plans increase the likelihood of that person returning to face further interrogation? And how often has that question backfired? How often have they asked about somebody's interesting day, only to learn that their customer is heading to a funeral, and their question has led this person to tearfully unload everything about their grandfather's long fight with cancer, while traffic backs up in the drive-thru lane?
Listening to my waiter ask this question of every table they're serving tempts me to ask them what the strangest, most off-the-wall answer have they received to their inquiry? Or, better yet, to come up with the most outlandish answer of my own -- though it might need a prop or two:
WAITER: So! How was your breakfast?
ME: Excellent, thank you.
WAITER (rips off and hands over the receipt): "Do you have anything interesting planned today?"
ME: Yeah. We're disposing of a body.
WAITER: That's nice-- WHAT?!
ME (picks up ceremonial urn, plunks it on the table): Yeah. Uncle Fester. His dying wish was for us to have one last breakfast at his favourite restaurant before we take him down and dump his ashes in the Grand River, so he can float gently out to sea.
I realize one of the defining features of this age is a growing lack of personal connection, and the social strains that this causes, but attempting to force connections isn't the solution. I don't go through a drive-thru to unload about my problems, and I don't go to a breakfast restaurant with my eldest child to share my day's plans (or lack thereof) with a perfect stranger.
If I wanted to share my thoughts with strangers, I'd approach a bartender. I'd be sitting at a counter, alone. That's the stereotype, right? I'd be sitting in front of the Piano Man, Billy Joel, who'd ask me why I was still in the navy. But I'm not at a bar, I'm at a breakfast diner. I'm not behind a counter, I'm at a table with friends or family, or I'm in a coffee shop working hard on my computer. There are better times and places to try and forge connections, and these false and forced attempts aren't among them.
Indeed, I can't help but wonder if they're another symptom of our society's disconnect.