I talk to people in all lines of work. There was a great book by Studs Terkel, "Working," that had people talk all about their jobs. I mean, I'm interested in your job, no matter what it is you do. Pizza maker, bridge/tunnel toll taker, bread baker, football sideline pom-pom shaker...I love to hear about the ins and outs of jobs. And most people will talk about their work, if they take any sort of pride in it.
Like, you ask someone behind the counter at the sub shop about what the worst order to prepare in a hurry is, and who are the hardest customers to deal with, and they'll tell you! Servers, hotel maids, grocery cashiers...they've got stories! Just ask.
A lot of the stories, it's sad to say, concern the America habit of theft, wrapped in a blanket of entitlement. Such as those people who will go to a restaurant and, as they leave, take 127 packets of sugar, and fake sugar, and the mustard and the ketchup. And the salt and the pepper and the little jar of grated cheese. And people will all tell you about their sweet Aunt Mildred whose kitchen contains cutlery and condiments from every diner in town, and old Millie always says some variation of, "Well, I paid for this when I paid my bill."
You paid for your Salisbury steak, mash and peas, but it's your kitchen, stock it any way you want, and IKEA charges for their kitchen implements, so into the purse it all goes.
Hotels and motels probably lose enough towels, blankets, sheets, coffee makers and clock radios to outfit the Army of Slovenia, what with people traveling home with souvenir towels, blankets, sheets, coffee makers and clock radios to mark their trip to East Awful.
And of course, you do realize that this racket just makes them raise the price for everything to cover the loss.
I don't figure it, to be honest with you. (And I wish everyone was!)
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