This morning I finished a pretty standard summer event in Phoenix, Arizona. I collected my things at the completion of the event and made my way to the airport. I dropped of the rental car, boarded the terminal bus and made my way to the ticket counter. That is when my mundane yet happy morning was turned around into an anger inducing mini fit because of yet another “customer service” initiative by the airlines. This new fee is quite enraging. Now if the airline has a problem with one of their planes and your flight gets canceled, delayed or otherwise interrupts your travel plans it will cost you $25.00 to fix it. I wonder if I can adapt that business model to my industry... “So sorry we messed your show up. The good news is we can fix it, and it will only cost you 25% of what you paid us to be here for in the first place.”
I was burning up inside. I pride myself as an ethical business man and it incenses me when I am taken advantage of against what I know is right. I made my way through security with my internal monologue quickly increasing in vitriol.
I tell you this story to make my point on why I love getting a shoes shine.
These days a dollar is sacred. Every penny that is saved is one that makes the sting of a stagnate economy feel a little bit better. But shoe shines are one luxury we should all set aside $5 for, because it might just make your day.
As I put my shoes on at the security check point I realized how dirty and scuffed they were. Now that I had seven hours to wait courtesy of US Airways it seemed like a logical way to kill some time and get something done that needed to be done anyway.
The first reason I love getting my shoes shinned is the feeling of renewal. You go in dirty and scuffed, and come out like a new pair. Shinny, feeling good, like the man those cloths are supposed to make you. I also like sit on the high chairs overlooking the speeding masses make it from gate to gate. I usually enjoy people watching, especially in airports. I like to guess where people are going. The family with too many bags and bed pillows, defiantly Hawaii. The man in the suit, San Francisco on business. The tween in the twilight shirt with her cell phone glued to her ear, going home after visiting Dad and his new girlfriend. Today however my stories kept getting interrupted by that $25.00 that was stolen from me. I kept repeating in my mind that its not the money, but the principal of the matter.
Every person that shines shoes has a story. They are always personable and they always do a fine job at making you feel better. I almost did not respond when he asked me how I was doing. I was too caught up in my monolog to be courteous. “I’m fine, how are you?” My response at the time was so half hearted. I didn’t really care how he was. It was a pavlovian response engraved into me by polite society. “Good. A little slow today, but this is much better than my other job. There is air conditioning here.” “Did you just start working here?” I asked. “No. I just came from my other job this morning.”
He was from Ethiopia. A geography teacher in the equivalent of 9th grad high school. It turns out he had a wife and a daughter back home he has not seen in a year. He has to work two jobs in the summer time because in Ethiopia it is winter and the harvest has passed and food is very expensive and hard to come by. We talked about World Cup. He would have liked to see the Ghana game but it was at the same time he was working. The conversation was always in smiles and soon drifted back to him getting some money home. That is when he said something that altered my mood. “It’s Ok. The money will come, God will provide.”
My $25.00 suddenly took a back seat. My anger at a faceless entity seemed trivial. My perspective was altered, and I once again became grounded. I was now disappointed in myself that I let something so silly ruin my day. Thank God, for the man from Ethiopia, whose name I never did get. When I responded to his farewells with “I hope your day is good too.” I meant it this time.
That I when I realized why I like the shine.
Thinking back this interaction was not a isolated incident. A few months ago the lady that was at the station had a grand daughter with MS. My mother-in-law happened to be quite involved with hyperbaric oxygen treatment, and was always talking about how it can help with MS. We exchanged stories, smiles and a little hope for one another. Later that month I was passing through and she recognized me, stopped me and thanked me for the information. Her grand daughter was going to go for her first HYBOT treatment in a few days. I remember the high I had that day that I may have helped someone change their life.
A few months before that It was a guy who has a small auto detail and tinting business. Times were slow and his business was not going so good. He had one employee that he did not want to fire because he was afraid of how he would pay for his responsibilities. So he stopped paying himself and started shinning shoes until things got better. His story was inspiring. I never saw him again, so I am assuming everything worked out for the best.
My point being is we are all here to serve each other in one way or another. We all have excuses on why we ignore this, but occasionally there are small interactions that remind us what is important and keep our egos in check. So I encourage you to slow down a bit and get a shoe shine. Don’t talk on your cell phone, or listen to your iPod. Instead listen to the perspective that you might be granted.
Besides we can all afford to take a little dirt off our souls.
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Jay F. Koller. Principal
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