Remember the day.....?

I just had a minute to talk with Kenia, the manager at McAlister's. We were talking about writing blogs, and finding the time for same.

We talked about the impact of good, happy employees who have the heart to serve. How patrons will keep coming back just for the service.

We talked about the concept of being a part of a "blog community". Kenia told me how tight her time was because she chooses to spend as much time as possible with her baby. I work a schedule similar to hers, but my kids are nearly grown.

Here's a thought for those of you considering writing a blog. Some people use blogs to document their lives. A written photo album, if you will. Writing down what happens is a sure fire way of remembering events the way they really occurred. I would love to remember my thoughts from the day my son first walked, spoke or, later, confessed to liking a girl.

So write, people. It strengthens your communication skills as well as a myriad of other beneficial things.

If you write a blog, please share with me the URL, so I can visit and see your life through your words...

Through The Hoop, This Time With Feeling

The Vice President of our company, our Regional Manager and District Manager are all supposed to meet at our store today. You ought to see the worker bees go! We're dusting, moving, filling, building, straightening and re-straightening.

All of the things we are supposed to do on a daily basis.

Jumping through hoops is not my favorite pastime. If you do things right, you are always ready for any visitor you may have.

I saw on a friend's FaceBook page that the Target store he worked at had just had a bad visit from their District Manager. It was another case of people almost finishing their work. What is it with people that they want to do exactly what it takes to get by, and less if they can get away with it? To me, that is theft. These people are being paid to do a job, and by intentionally not doing their job, yet still collecting a paycheck, they are stealing from the company.

When I interview someone for a job, they always tell me how hard they will work, how smart and well trained they are, and how their prior experience is going to put the company I work for on the map. Then when I hire them, some go through a comfort zone metamorphosis and place themselves in the "exactly what I have to do and nothing more, less if I can get away with it" category. All I know is they sold me something in that interview, and I want what I bought.

The bottom line is, as long as people are unwilling to take ownership and show accountability for their work, there will always be a hoop to jump through.

The Heart to Serve

Given today's economy, and the shrinking of disposable income coupled with the fear that we may never be able to retire, it has been said that fewer people will be eating out.

You couldn't have made me believe that on Wednesday. I sat in McAlister's and watched the line grow to the sidewalk from the front counter. It was still being replenished when I got up to leave. How could that be, given the current state of the wallet?

Shae is awesome. That is what she'll tell you when you ask her how she is, and she'll say it with a melt butter smile.

The same can be said of Abby, Alanna and Jamie at Cuppy's. Even when they don't think anyone sees, they enjoy their work as well as each others' company. Alanna with her loving spirit, Abby who can't speak without a laugh in her voice, and Jamie with a smile to challenge the sun.

Today, at Cuppy's, it was wall to wall patrons with their friends and laptops.

I will repeat myself when I say that happy employees make for good service. Only a fool will return where he feels unwelcome. If I am a chore to my server, nobody goes home happy.

Employers and employees alike should take note , the line at McAlister's was long because Shae is awesome.

Henry

On a side note, Henry had liver cancer. He has recently received a liver transplant, and is recovering at home. Please offer your prayers for a thorough and speedy recovery.

Henry's Louisiana Grill

Not so long ago, downtown Acworth was a veritable ghost town. A smattering of businesses occupied storefronts here and there, but excitement wasn't part of the plan. There was an investment office, a doctor and further down a dentist. A store would open and close now and again, but there was no real reason to walk the sidewalk.

A small group of people became enamoured with revitalizing downtown, and things began to change.

Along came Chef Henry. Henry's Louisiana Grill has been a cornerstone to the rebirth of a stretch of Main Street Acworth for a few years now. Since the restaurant opened up, foot traffic has increased, and with that, other businesses have moved in. Not that he was solely responsible, but Henry's willingness to stick with it and make it go has put a pulse back in the arteries of Acworth's downtown.

I visited Henry's the other day. It was about two o'clock, so the large dining room was closed. This meant that I could either sit at the bar or at a table just outside the kitchen door, Normally I would not choose to sit anywhere near the kitchen, but today I was alone, so I didn't mind.

The restaurant is done up in Louisiana decor. Henry is from either Baton Rouge or New Orleans, so the look and feel is authentic Cajun. The staff is friendly, but the place was hopping, so Wendy, my waitress, never stopped running.

When she came to me, I ordered my bowl of red beans and rice (which I heartily recommend) and cornbread (which is more like dessert). Henry offers a wide variety of Cajun food, including Chicken Oo La La, Shrimp etouffee, and the occasional gator dish (yes, alligator), but I almost always get the red beans and rice. Especially when I have a sinus headache, if you get the picture.

Wendy never let my tea glass get empty, and took time to speak, even though I was alone and there were a few larger groups that she had to attend to. I enjoyed eating my lunch in relative peace, eavesdropping and looking into the kitchen, with it's small cross on the back wall as the staff hustled dishes up for the waitresses.

Got Gas?

Larry called out today. He couldn't get to work because he ran out of gas and no stations in his area had any.

Friday night at Garden Ridge seemed like a Wednesday. Three times as many employees as customers. Eating lunch today at McAlister's was like a typical weekday. Only it is Saturday. A block from the mall. It was me and four others. Quiet. Quiet enough that I could hear the girl across the room on her cell phone.

Nobody is going to use gas they may not be able to replace before midweek to go shopping or out to eat. There was even talk of canceling the Alabama-Georgia football game, and if you know anything about football in the south, you'd have better luck asking a preacher to cancel a holiday service.

This all started with hurricane Ike, which caused the shutdown of several refineries in Texas. Atlanta, along with about 14 other cities, require a cleaner grade of gas which is only refined at a handful of refineries, of which only one is in operation. The Governor has persuaded the EPA to temporarily release us from those restrictions, but the gas delivery will still not arrive for some time now.

When stations have received their deliveries recently, the lines begin. My wife waited in line for forty-five minutes the other night. I have heard stories of longer waits and restricted purchases. There have been fights and police. At the very least, we live in a very frustrated and panic filled metro area.

If I wouldn't look stupid on a scooter, I'd get one. I may anyway. At $4.50 a gallon, I can laugh my way to the bank.

Angela

Today was haircut day. I usually go to a stylist about twenty miles from home, but gas is pricey and hard to find, so I decided to get it cut near home.

As I have stated in a prior post, I am a creature of habit. I derive comfort from familiarity. The same girl has cut my hair for a few years, now, and for me to go to someone new was a scary thing.

People say I'm a snob because I won't go to a "fast food" style shop. My reasoning is plain and simple. The ladies (and men) that cut at most of those places have usually moved on by the time the next haircut is due, and the managers will never tell you where they went.

I was smack dab in the middle of a catch 22. My hair was long enough that it bothered me, but I didn't want to hunt and then pay for the gas to go twenty miles one way.

So that's how I found myself parked outside the Supercuts on Baker Rd in Kennesaw. When I went through the door, I saw that aside from two stylists, I was alone. A pleasant woman asked the obvious do you need a haircut question and then guided me to my stylist, Angela.

Angela was a pretty young lady with short dark hair that sported electric blue tips. She had stars tattooed on one forearm, and a very winning smile. She combed her fingers through my hair and asked how I'd like it cut. Then she did something abnormal. She listened.

After she finished cutting my hair, she washed it out (that's my favorite part of a haircut). She gave a fantastic shampoo, massaging my scalp and taking her time. Then she used a great minty cool cream rinse that made my head feel cool and tingly.

All in all the experience surprised and pleased me. I won't think twice about returning. Angela may not be there, but if she reads this, maybe she'll e-mail me when she goes on to someplace else....