Tuesday, December 26, 2006

Adventures on Saturday Morning

I had a delightful experience last Saturday morning. I wanted to buy a gravy ladle, of all things. So I happened upon a “home fixin’s” kind of store over in The Big City.

The young woman who greeted me was not attractive. I’m sorry, she just wasn’t. She had bad teeth, her hair was askew, her skin was world-class blotchy and she was picking at it. But she looked happy. Her lop-sided name tag only said “It’s All Inside.” I told Miss It’s All Inside what I needed. She smiled, and I followed her to a long, long ladle, the kind you use for digging lumpy stew out of a witch’s cauldron. Nope.

“Well, then, do you have a gravy boat with a ladle,” I asked. Miss It’s All Inside thought for a moment, scratched a spot under her ear, and then said, “Why yes, sir, we sure do,” she said with a happy smile. So I followed her to a huge soup tureen with a matching ladle. It was real pretty, but again, nope. So I said, “Thank you, ma'am,” and walked away.

A few seconds later after I rounded the corner and was out of her sight, I heard, “Sir! Sir! I have this!”

When I looked back, here came Miss It’s All Inside, hurrying after me and enthusiastically waving a package. “Sir. I just remembered: we just got these in yesterday." She was nearly breathless, but she was beaming proudly. "I think this is what you’re looking for.”

And it was!

It was a package of five serving utensils, including a cool gravy ladle. The price was right, too. “That’s it!” I said triumphantly. "Thank you. I'll take it.”

“The other things in the package are okay?” She asked. I nodded and complimented her and thanked her for going the extra mile to “remember” this package. At the cash register I thanked her again for the extra service, for really understanding what I wanted and for chasing me down. “That’s what customer service is all about, Miss It’s All Inside, and I really appreciate it. God bless you.”

“Thank you,” she said. “That’s not really my name.” She giggled real friendly like.

Next to My First Wife, she was the prettiest lady I saw all day. Her prettiness is where it counts the most: all inside.

No comments: