DeWeese--Little Things Mean a Lot
I took the last stool at the counter and began to study Joe's collection of famous resort postcards tacked on a large bulletin board next to the grill. Joe never goes anywhere and loves to complain about "being chained to the grill." So Joe's patrons have mailed him postcards featuring bikini-clad women cavorting on famous beaches around the world. There must be 300 cards haphazardly tacked and layered on the bulletin board. The whole thing is permanently held together with a coating of grease from the grill.
I had worked my way down to four nubile demoiselles dashing toward the surf at Cuerna Vaca when a female voice to my left said, "Aren't you the Manaña Man?"
Honored that I'd been recognized, I turned slowly toward the voice and responded, "It depends on whether or not you're from the IRS." You can't be too careful nowadays.
My countermate laughed and said, "I recognize you from your picture in Printing Impressions. I worked for a printing company for 17 years, and I read your column every month. I've been working in another industry for nearly a year and I miss reading it."
A fan! I'd met a fan. Of course, I've got tens of thousands of fans. I'm sure it must be that many. But here was one in the flesh, and she "missed" me.
I asked her, "Tell me. Why did you leave printing?"
She answered, "I was a CSR. I won't tell you the name of the company. There's no need to spread sour grapes."
Ms. CSR paused to lift her hamburger bun and spread some ketchup over Joe's grilled onions.
She began her story: "I miss it. I loved my customers, and they liked me. Some of them became good friends that I still see and hear from. Some of the customers were more my accounts than the sales rep. Some of the sales reps just stopped seeing those customers and let me handle everything. Of course, the reps still got the commissions."