A Simple Thank You. It’s All I Ask.

How many times a week do you take advantage of a drive-thru? More specifically, for a coffee or a quick bite?

How often do you tip at a drive-thru?

I’ve always felt odd tipping at a drive-thru. McDonald’s doesn’t expect a tip from me. Neither does Wendy’s. Nor Burger King. But Starbucks has their tip jar in prominent display. And the Sonic Drive-Ins in our area recently posted reminders to tip your drive-thru attendant, just as you would the carhop.

I proudly call myself thrifty. I blame my Scottish heritage. But I waited tables in college and think of myself as a generous tipper. I know, firsthand, how hard the job is.

But the drive-thru? You stand there. Take the order. Possibly walk 3 steps to reach the order that has been prepared for you/me and then hand it to me through a window.

And by the way, that’s your job.

There wasn’t any extra service involved. You didn’t refill my drinks, take away dirty dishes, check to make sure my burger was cooked to order. You simply took my order and handed me my order. Oh. And took my money.

My husband always tips you. He has shamed me into tipping you, too. And so, I do. Reluctantly. But never more reluctantly until now.

Recently, in the past three months or so, I’ve noticed an air of expectance when you are handing me my change. And so, I tip. And then you say, “Have a great day!”

How about “Thank you?”

Thank you is the proper response when someone gives you a gift. And that’s what a tip is. A gift. I don’t have to give it to you. Especially at a drive-thru. But I do. So, I, the generous customer, give you a little extra money for the amazing 38 seconds that I spend with you. You, in turn, should reply, at the very least, “Thank you.”

I’ve been keeping track of how many “thank yous” I receive when I give a tip at a drive-thru for the past two months. Of the eleven visits for coffee or milkshakes for the kids at Sonic or lunch at our local country cafe with a drive-thru, I’ve received one thank you.

One.

Solitary.

Thank you.

It’s not hard. It takes less than one second to say.

Instead of a thank you, I’ve received “Have a great day!,” “Come again!” and a tip of the head and a smile. But nary a thank you.

Sigh.

Common courtesy and graciousness is dying a slow death.

Even in the South.

To You, Dear Readers. Thanks For Helping Me Deal.

Your outpouring of support for my last post (The Life And Times of Six-Year-Old Jane) has touched me so. Especially when I’ve been such a horrible reciprocating blogger of late. I’m going through some (not serious) health issues that have me pre-occupied. All is well. I will be ok. Just extra distracted, scattered and annoyed with the struggles.

I’m great at putting emotions or moments I’d rather forget in a drawer and never thinking about them again. Or, brushing things aside and saying, “I’ll get to that later.” When my husband and I have had an argument and much later he says, “Remember when we disagreed about….” I can actually feel the memory of that uncomfortable moment start to show his (because bad memories are always male, right?) ugly head. I’ll stop my husband in mid-sentence and say, “No! I don’t want to remember. Let’s just move on.” Yes, I’m the one with her fingers in her ears singing “La, la, la, la,la,  la!”  

But I’m learning that you can’t truly move on unless you’ve dealt with it head on.

When Dawn and Tori inspired me to write a post, tongue-in-cheek, about a 6-year-old memoir, I thought, “Ooooo. This will be fun.”

It wasn’t.

It reminded me of things I had stuffed.  Things I hadn’t dealt with. Things I’d rather forget. And I chose not to write about the heavy, heavy stuff. Too painful.

I cried a bit, writing what little I wrote. I miss that little girl. She was cute and always smiling. She loved music and listening to baseball games on her stuffed Tiger with the transistor radio tucked inside.(Remember those?) And she just wanted hugs, approval and love.

Don’t get me wrong. My parents did the best they could with what parenting talents God gave them. And I have many happy memories. But most of those happy memories don’t involve my parents. I think that’s why I am so hell-bent on creating happy memories with my own children.

I have a soft-spot for children who are ignored or forgotten. I suppose we all do. But I have always gravitated toward charities, causes, and professions that could help those children. When I dabbled in foster care and had those two beautiful girls in my home it was the most rewarding and emotionally draining year of my life. I’ve thought about becoming a child advocate volunteer many times. But I always stop short, knowing that I may have to open a cupboard or two and deal with a few of my own demons.

And at for-sen-sumpin years old, I’m still not ready.

Baby steps.

Tiny baby steps.

Thanks for pushing me along.

 

Commenting on Comments and Thanking Those Who Do

I’m getting quite close to my 100th post. (Oooo, my stomach just did a little flip-flop in anticipation. Yours too?) And many of you out there celebrate your 100th, 500th or 1000th (Joey!) post. But what about those comments? When are they recognized? Where would we be without comments on our musings?

One of the things I did not anticipate enjoying as much as I do about blogging is the comments. Both giving and receiving (wink, wink). There are some days when I sit down at the computer, fully anticipating to write 7 or 8 prolific posts, but instead spend 3 hours reading your blogs and commenting on them. Then I remember why I sat down to the computer in the first place, click ‘new post’ and I got nothin’. Oh sure, I’ve blamed my crazy life but sometimes I have no one to blame but myself. You people are just too interesting. You suck the great ideas right outta me.

But the dialog that comments provide is invaluable.

And I’ve struggled with how to handle comments from day one. First, I was mostly a lurker. Reading your blogs. Skipping along to the next. Sometimes I just had nothing to say, other times I was intimidated by the amazing comments left by others.

After I dipped my toe in and started to comment I took the full plunge and became a comment whore. I’d comment on anything and everything. I’d spend more time commenting than I would creating a new post. It became exhausting. But I didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. If they left a comment on my blog, I left a comment on theirs. If they visited my blog and I could see their blog address on my limited stats keeper here on free WordPress, I’d go to their blog and comment. Even with blogs who didn’t know I existed I would pressure myself to leave a comment, any kind of comment, even if I had nothing to say. I imagined they could see (because they had super-high-powered-stats-keepers-that-could-track-me-down-through-tiny-internet-wires) that I had visited and dared not to let them know I had stopped by.

And some of you demand that people comment. (guilt) And some of you ask questions to encourage comments. (more guilt) And some have pictures and quotes and diagrams and recipes and comics and videos and links to other great bloggers and put sooooo much effort into one little post. (even more guilt….hmmmm, I’m a better Catholic than I thought I was.)

So I gave up. I comment when I have something to say. What a revelation that was! My empty comments weren’t getting me anywhere except behind in my writing and making me feel horrible that I was creating vapid, transparent snippets that clutter up your pages.

Which brings me to the comments I receive here…Oops…..That didn’t come out right – it was the timing. Let me try that again…..

I am so thankful for the comments I receive here. Truly! It’s nice to know that I touch people, amuse people or stop and make them re-think. Oh sure, I receive my fair share of spam. Or thinly veiled comments that reek of ‘I’m only commenting because I want you to visit me at my blog.’ But honestly, those are far and few between. I have surrounded myself in Bloggy World (much as I have in the Real World) with wonderful, interesting, thoughtful people. What an amazing extension of my real life this writing has become and I have you all to thank.

Which leads me to……..my 1000th comment! (Party streamers, confetti and cake for all!)

My blog has received its 1000th comment from one of you, dear readers. Will Joe from Meech and Joe please stand up? Let’s give him a hand everyone! Help me to thank him and all of you for commenting here over the past 4 months! I’ve enjoyed hearing from you and commenting on your blogs. Here’s to continuing our conversations together!  

( Unknown Mami has created an interesting meme along this subject, I Comment Therefore I Am. Worth checking out!)