The Joy of Work
The thinking behind a food franchise is that a meal in one location should be identical to that same chain in a different location. At Dunkin’ Donuts, then, a cup of coffee is a cup of coffee is a cup of coffee. You order. Robotic employees pour it in a cup and hand it to you. Their employment tenure is likely measured in weeks and you are likely to see a different face each time as the Pez Dispenser spits out another one, replacing the last.
Except for Joy.
Joy greeted me with a smile and a hearty “Good morning!” (now who does that remind me of...?). She took my order and my money. She complimented my coat as she handed me my Joe and directed me to the napkins holder behind me before I could ask. She even expressed concern that the coffee was to my liking.
You go, Joy.
Now, I’d imagine that Joy does not bound out of bed in the morning, anxiously anticipating another day of DD order-taking. She would likely be somewhere else doing something else. But for whatever reasons, she works here, likely for minimum wage, in a job that has little to no hope for advancement.
But you’ll never convince Joy of that.
Joy did her simple job with, well, joy! It’s as if she decided that she was going to save the world one cup of coffee at a time. Joy recognized the fact that she had a choice: She could do her job like a lemming or she could do it to the best of her ability, happily and purposefully.
Before I left the counter, I leaned in to her and gave her some advice: Don’t ever stop. Someone, some day, I told her, is going to come in, recognize her superior attitude, and hire her away. She giggled in disbelief, thanked me, and actually blushed.
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