Just corporate enough

About a year ago, I was working two part-time jobs. The first was staffing the gift shop in really a fairly nice, big downtown hotel. The second was as a cashier in a very busy gas station.

The first was obviously quite a bit classier, but – after about four months of juggling the two – I quit the gift shop to go full-time at the gas station. One reason was economic: they both paid a pittance, but six days at the gas station meant eight hours of overtime, which never happened when I split my time between the two.

The second reason I described as that the gas station was “more fun”. By that I meant it was looser. Paul and I, the primary worker-bees, each felt free to kid around with customers – especially our many “regulars”, but not just them. With the guys, we used lots of what I call “buddy”isms – “man”, “guy”, “bud”, “buddy”, etc. Not being southern, I had a little more difficulty with terms of endearment for women customers, which flowed easily out of Paul – “hon”, “dear”, “sweetie”, etc. But, somewhat to my surprise, after a few months, the occasional “hon” just popped out of my mouth, unbidden. A couple of my favorite regulars even sometimes got a “darlin’” – again, pretty much to my surprise, but it also felt really natural.

I’ve written at length about how sweet those interactions could be in “Keeping It Human”, an “Article” at my Authentic Customer Service web site – (see adjoining link). I also wrote about how satisfying it was to sometimes not be so nice, when the situation warranted.

I now have left the gas station (more about this in an earlier post) and am again doing 2-3 shifts a week back at the hotel gift shop. Returning there after almost a year away, I have observed three things about this job.

1. Working in the hotel (though I am not a hotel employee - my boss is the guy who leases the gift shop) is more conservative, more corporate. Whereas at the gas station you were usually alone and free to basically create your own little culture, here there are lots of other watchful eyes, including various managers who somehow feel it is their responsibility to watch over what is going on in the gift shop.

2. I’ve learned a lot in the intervening year about being a “host” – partly from working at the gas station, where I really did consider people “my customers”, but also from watching other folks who are good at hosting in a retail environment. (See my post about Khawla, the manager/host at our downtown drug store.)

3. I’m having way more fun this time around. Having played so much with my customers at the gas station, I seem able now to feel my way into just what are the boundaries of fun here in this more corporate hotel. I don’t use near as many “buddy”isms – and so far no “sweetie"isms. But I have let loose with a few “man”s. Somehow I have an intuition - so far accurate, I think - of with whom this relative looseness could work. A couple of these guys may have been a little surprised by my familiarity, but hey, this is Asheville – my orthopedist calls me “Man”.

But the looser modes of address are just the tip of the fun iceberg (definitely the wrong metaphor). I am just looser with people in general. I know it comes through in my tone of voice. I’m liking myself more and liking them more.

I think I’m shaking the job title of “Cashier” or even “Sales Associate”. I’m not just a host, but I’m more than ever a person – who just happens to be playing the role of “Cashier”, etc. I am meeting people, more than ever, person to person. As I do that, I can more just sense to what extent that person or family is ready to have fun – and I, these days in this job, am almost always ready.

The other day, one of two 12ish girls, themselves clearly having fun roaming the hotel, said, “You’re cool, John”. I think she liked the full way I showed up for them - like they were real people, not just kids. And I think she heard the subtle playfulness in my voice. I responded with, “Great. Come on back and we’ll hang.” They clearly loved that – and did breeze by several more times that day, giving big waves and an occasional, “Hey, John”.

A 12 year old girl clearly having a good time with a 60 year old man who isn’t her grandfather - it can’t get much more fun than that.