Can I Speak to the Manager?
“I can’t get used to your new haircut,” my friend Patty said smiling as we sat across the table from each other at Brantley’s 259. It’s one of my favorite places in town to eat and it was my birthday lunch so, yes. I had both salad, and the fried pecan pie.
The day Nate-the-Boy-Wonder, gave me this drastically different style at D-Anthony’s, my daughter’s friend Dillon squealed to me. “OH! T-Fish! You got the haircut.”
“The haircut that says with pursed lips, “I’d like to speak to the manager.”
This made me laugh of course, because I know that look and swore I would never have this cut or be that woman. She is the one who is disdainfully unsatisfied and always finds something to complain about. If I ask to speak to the manager, most times it’s to praise someone for their excellent customer service, like Savannah at the Starplex, who was especially kind and smiled a lot.
I can’t actually talk to her manager because I’ve had an accidental run-in with one of them up there already.
This manager got mad and dramatically dumped a bag of popcorn on the ground when I asked if I could change my order because the guy at the register didn’t tell me it would be cheaper if I got a specific popcorn and drink package together. I even said please.
She still dumped that freshly popped corn all gangster style on the carpet behind the counter and walked off.
In contrast, I went to see the manager at Home Depot for a covert Teacher Appreciation gift idea and he generously donated $50.00 without hesitation. This happened just 10 seconds after being reamed out by a super snotty customer who had some sort of situation. A situation that elevated emotions to a level not necessary in a big box hardware store that offers to let us do it for you.
Last week I had a colleague call and complain to my manager. I thought it should have been the other way around after she told me on the phone that talking to me was like talking to a brick wall. Who says that to another professional in the process of selling a home? There was no issue. It came out of left field and was completely uncalled for. The only person in my life I think I have ever said something like that to was probably my children. So, I hung up the phone and cried for a second or two.
Then I danced my butt off to Brick House at the Cibolo Nature Center on Saturday night because there are some days when I know I’m mighty, mighty. And just no. I can’t control what people say and do, but only the way I respond.
I need to work on that.
A lot of times, I have to take my daily infractions and interactions back to the bible. A lot of times, I can see how I mis-handled a situation by sending a ‘you hurt my feelings’ email and jumping to my own defense when I should know by now, God is my defender. At the end of the day, I find myself in bed, apologizing for things I say and do and so I plead grace on my life and the lives of those I come in contact with.
Even the ones with The Haircut.
When I hear the phrase, “Can I speak to the manager?” I think about the guys in Matthew who were asked to manage their master’s affairs for a period of time while he was away. When the rich man came back, he wanted to know how they handled what he had given them. For the two men who invested their talents wisely, he praised them.
“Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master.’”
I’d love to enter into the joy of my master.
When I look in the mirror in the morning and run a straightener through my new sassy haircut, I wonder about that story and how I am managing the things I’ve been given.
Am I managing my time? My money? My emotions? The gifts and talents that God has given me?
“Can I see the manager?” we might ask.
But I am the manager.
And so are you.
Am I being wise or am I being a popcorn tosser?