Familiarity Breeds Contempt

Is it just me?

I grew up in an era where service personnel wouldn't think of addressing a customer by his first name. The correct form of address to use with a customer is the title "Sir" or "Ma'am", unless I'm a regular and invite the clerk to address me by my first name. But that perogative belongs to me, and until the invitation is given, it's presumptuous to be so familiar.

So today when I walk into It's A Grind and order my regular ice-blended mocha, no whip, I hesitated when the kid behind the counter asks me for my name. I looked around the virtually vacant store, and gave it to him, laughing that he wouldn't be likely to forget what I look like in the next three minutes. I was, at that moment, one of three customers in the store.

He's a nice kid, and bright. He recognized my discomfort, and laughed along with me. I don't blame him: he is only asking my my name because someone trained him to ask, but it just doesn't play well with people in my generation. This kid is not on a first name basis with me: he doesn't need to know my name in order to throw some milk, ice and cocoa powder in a blender and then bring it to me.

Same interaction when I use my debit card at the supermarket. The clerk looks at the readout, then thanks me, using my first name. I bristle. Once the clerk addressed me as "Mr. Coulter," and I was so pleasantly surprised, I smiled, even though he had no need to know my name either. At least after gaining the knowledge, he addressed me properly. I use cash more and more, for this very reason. I'm not in anyone's database, and the clerk just thanks me and hands me my purchases. Anonymous, as the Good Lord intended.

The whole idea of gradations of social status is being blurred. And when I am addressed by my first name by service providers, I lose status in the social interaction. That's why the policeman who pulls you over invariably addresses you by your first name once you hand him your license: he calls you by your first name, but all you can do is look at his name tag, and reply with "Officer Snodgrass". That is how these power relationships are played, and in my opinion, they're valid distinctions. When I'm addressed by my first name by people I don't know, that distinction is blurred, and I lose power in that interaction with that company. Using my title forces the company to treat me with respect. The vanishing of that social barrier may lead to the company taking other license in our interaction that may work to my disadvantage.

Besides, I'm forty-seven years old. The twenty-something behind the counter shouldn't be taking such liberties.

Do you you really want to be treated casually by companies that are supposed to be there to meet your needs? Your auto insurance agent? Your car salesman? Your plumber? Your car detailer? Go back through that list again, and play it both ways in your mind.

You may chalk this little rant up to someone who grew up in a blue collar household who is desperately trying to put on the airs of the middle-class by demanding the social courtesies, and you have that right. Or that I enjoy the superiority in my job with my students, and so now I want to experience it out in public. But I see it as a general loss of civility in our culture, so if you are over thirty, you can have an opinion based on actual experience.

In resturants, it has been de riguer or twenty years for the server to introduce himself to the table party. I understand this cultural practice originated here in California in the Eighties, but I haven't traveled enough to confirm this. The idea is credible, though.

Let me tell you: I don't care what the hell your name is. Your name is not intregal to my experience. Just bring me my food and keep my coffee cup topped off, and we'll get along just fine, anonymously. I'm not here because I need to initiate new friendships. I'm here to be served. And I don't believe for a second that you care what my name is either, or remember it for 30 seconds after our interaction. I don't expect you to, and I find with whole thing just a bit creepy.

In the Information Age, the first casualty has been our privacy.

And dont' get me started on employees chewing gum and eating food in sight of the customers!

It's Started

This is the first week of the 4th quarter, and Brother, you can tell.

Students are slow to respond to instruction, easliy distracted, and talkative. I mean, even more than usual.

As for myself, for some reason I'm energized instead of enervated, so it doesn't bother me that much. School days remaining = 45. That may seems a low number at first read, but it translates into another eight weeks and change, or 2 months and 5 days. Counting all days until the last day of school: 65 days. Now it don't seem just around the corner anymore, do it, Willis?

That's what I'm saying. This is the best of times, this is the worst of times.

I think I'll go in early in the morning and do some planning.

Quote of the Week

Overheard today somewhere on campus:

Teacher: What is the name of the Mexican president overthrown during the Mexican Revolution in the 1930s?
Student #1: Ceasar Chavez!
Student #2: That's Cuba.
Student #1: At least I got the state right.