I have been really struggling lately. I think it’s because I went from a vibrant and busy school where I felt a part of a community with a great staff and super kids to being alone every day with only my computer and my research to keep my company (although the new puppy helps).
A good friend of mine suggested I get out and go to a Starbucks to work; he said it has the perfect amount of busy to help you feel like you aren’t alone, but also some of the sounds would fade into the background and he finds it helps him to be more productive.
I thought today would be the perfect day to try that, but without having had lunch, I sought out a lunch place where that same philosophy would apply. I went to our Main Street; a short walk to the Library where I could go pick up the latest Book Club book and automatically went toward one of my favourite little spots. But I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw the sign outside the window:
(not the actual sign but a similar one I found here)
I am not going to lie. This really rubbed me the wrong way. I am the first person to advocate for no devices at the dinner table and believe in the importance of in person conversation.
I can see why a small business might not be able to afford wifi or just makes a personal choice not to have it. In this case, simple, Sorry, No Wifi would suffice. But this sign is so condescending and out of line? Not only because I was just looking for a place to work, but how about for the person who doesn’t have a partner who might want to connect with a friend or relative online? Do I think wifi is a necessity at restaurants? Perhaps not. But I feel like this, “Life was better in 1993” reference makes so many assumptions. Or maybe I just can’t take a joke.
The good news is, I kept walking past this restaurant and stumbled upon a local Soup and sandwich shop which I had never seen before, called Soup-a. The man behind the counter (presumably the owner) not only gave me a Wifi password, but offered me samples of homemade soup, and greeted every customer with a warmth that made the whole place feel like home. I had lunch and then a coffee and was able to work for a good couple of hours. In this time, Naz greeted everyone by name and made you feel welcome. When a young woman with Downs Syndrome came in (what I assume was a co-op student), he joked with her to get her apron on and make soup. Her laughter was contagious and you could tell that he treated her with the same joviality with which he treated his customers.
I couldn’t help notice the sign above the cutlery: Kindness is free and makes a difference.
Wow, Jen!!!! What a feel good morning read for me! I love your honesty and your critical mind (which never turns off). Most people, if they even would have noticed, would have laughter at the sign and thought nothing of it. Not you, my friend; you took note and made note of the better side of customer service. Kindness over condescension wins me over anytime!! Thanks for sharing. I will definitely have to visit Soup-a. They sound like my kind of people. 🤗😍
Thank you, my friend. We should go together! Miss you and hope you are well. ox
Jenn:
I got weepy reading your first paragraph. You perfectly described the conditions that were part of my first round of post-partum depression. I went from being totally needed by a school staff and 200 core French students to being the source of life for a non-verbal human. It was kind of an awful transition!
Great piece. I was also going to suggest you see if there’s a community of home-based creative types (artists, writers, freelancers) who have a regular meeting time/place in town. I know there’s one here, which I learned during my self-funded leave. (Practice retirement, where, again, I found myself in the difficult place you describe in your opening).
What a great suggestion, Lisa. Thank you for reading and sharing and especially for your compassion and empathy. I will definitely look around; I have rediscovered the Library here which is such a blessing. ox
I have seen similar signs when I’ve been out and about. I guess they’re trying to be humourous but I like that you took the time to look at it through a customer service lens. When we were living in Argentina, I was teaching online for Queens and I often went to the coffee shop next to our hotel to work, just to be around other people. Working online is lonely sometimes! I didn’t speak much Spanish, the staff spoke little English but I always felt welcome. More hot water for my tea whenever throughout the afternoon and even some free cookie samples!
Thanks so much for reading and sharing that story, Lisa. Living and teaching in Argentina sounds like a dream and I’m sure your Spanish got better. 🙂