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The Villages
Friday, March 29, 2024

Veteran waitress knows you have to ‘Kill them with kindness’

Lisa DeMarco

“Kill them with kindness” is an expression I know all too well. I learned it from my mother, and it stemmed from me being the youngest of three very different sisters with a father that always had to be correct.

Then, while working in a pizzeria in high school, I worked for a man named Sal. He was 100 percent Italian, “right off the boat,” like he’d always say, with a personality just like my dad’s.

The restaurant was next to a six-plex movie theater in a strip plaza outside a massive mall in New Jersey. It was a busy place where my older sister, Vivian, had already worked for a few years.

She recruited me at 13 years old, and I quickly learned that if I intended to make any money at this tip job, I better know how to turn on the charm — a talent I picked up quickly. 

Still, several times throughout my 40-year career in the hospitality industry, I have been warned to avoid certain guests because they do not like mingling with their servers. 

Years ago, when I worked at a restaurant in Mount Dora, I was told by all the other waitresses that this older man named Earnest would not like me as his waitress. Apparently, he had been dining there regularly for years and did not like anyone! It didn’t matter which of the servers waited on him or how long she had been employed there; he didn’t say anything more than salutations and the items he wanted to order, ever! Then, he would sit quietly and eat his breakfast while reading cover to cover of the daily newspaper. 

“If you get him, just do your job and nothing more,” my coworkers forewarned.

But I always took it as a heads up from the ladies that he would not be receptive to my over-the-top cheerful demeanor in the morning. But these same ladies convinced me he was a “cheap, grumpy loner.”

Luckily for me, 9 out of 10 times, I stick my neck out to try and spread some cheer, it works in my favor. I’ve only worn egg on my face once or twice. But once in a while, I actually prove the others wrong. Because sometimes their unwelcoming recluse has simply been mislabeled.

My buddy Dot’s advice was, “Don’t try to be social with him if you ever get him in your sections.”

She worked there just as long as the other old hens. She just didn’t act like them. Especially after she trained me and we connected. “When you get the pleasure of serving Earnest, just take the order, bring him his coffee, and drop off his bill as soon as you put his food down! You don’t need to hover over him or ask if everything is alright. If, by chance, he needs or wants something, he will speak first.”

I never understood why my coworkers insisted Earnest would be so against me waiting on him just because I’m joyful and talkative. However, as it goes, they were all dead wrong! 

Earnest was a charming gentleman who was such an introvert that it took everything in him just to come out and eat alone ever since his wife passed years ago. So it wasn’t that he wasn’t interested in striking up a friendly conversation with his server or other passersby. This poor man just didn’t have the nerve to initiate anything! He simply avoided eye contact and used his words sparingly his entire 70-plus years of life. 

“Ying! Yang! Bang!” I thought.

Leave it to me to have the honor of unleashing his hidden HAPPY GUY! Oddly everything everyone told me about Earnest was totally wrong. He wasn’t a mean loner who avoided others. He was just a quiet, anxious older man who never had been told that he was allowed to speak freely. Somehow this man old enough to be my father had been trained and programmed to genuinely believe he should covet his words, not interrupt, and never talk to strangers! 

All teachings I quickly tossed into the wind to help him finally understand not only was it not true, but even if it was, he was too old to care any longer. 

In my following shifts, Earnest asked to be seated in my section when he came in. Although I didn’t hover over his table telling him my life story, we regularly briefly chit-chatted about the weather before he placed his order and started reading the paper.

Not to mention –  not that it matters; my tips grew exponentially from that day on. It turns out Earnest was quiet, but he was far from poor. He could easily match the number of words I’ve used over my lifetime with the dollars he’s earned over his. 

Still, the best tip he gave me was the shiny new penny I insisted he give me to add to my  “New Friends Tip Jar,” which I have had for a lifetime, and it keeps growing all the time.

Priceless!

Lisa DeMarco is a columnist for Villages-News.com.

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