I say I'm too competitive to gamble, but I sent photo prints to Walmart. Clearly I'm willing to risk entirely too much of my time and gamble with my own patience when it comes to a customer service experience.
Alexis and I ran into the store to pick up the prints. When we arrived at the photo counter, I started to think I had lost the bet.
Nobody was there.
A tiny sign directed us to the electronics counter. Because it was backwards day (apparently), that actually worked out OK. There were four men standing around chatting when we approached, and one was quick to look our way and offer to assist.
The gamble paid off. We received EXCELLENT service. Truly.
As Alexis and I followed the man who had volunteered to grab our prints, I immediately noticed the differences. The young man, perhaps in his late 20s, had to work a little harder to walk than most of us do. Life or fate or whatever had contorted his skeletal system pretty severely, but there he was, outshining his co-workers who had returned to chatting.
The young man walked deliberately and with effort, his pace a slower than most. He was doing the best he could, and that was more than enough, but it was obvious that every movement and word required thought. A few cheerful and polite minutes later, we had our prints in hand and were walking to the front of the store.
Alexis had been silent throughout the transaction, but I could feel a weight. I don't know if it was the right thing to do or not, but I decided to simply say, "I feel like you have a question you might like to ask." I let my words hang in the air.
"No, I don't," Alexis replied. She was lying. Moms know these things. I met her lie with silence, figuring that either she would come clean or she wouldn't. There was no need to make a big deal out of it.
"OK, I do have a question," she finally said.
I knew what it was going to be. Alexis has been exposed to a huge variety of people during her life, but I couldn't think of a time when she had encountered a person with such obvious physical challenges. The young man had walked slowly with a heavy limp because his feet were pointed in the wrong directions, his eyes were crossed, and he struggled to enunciate his words. I don't pretend to be a doctor, but I would guess he has been fighting to overcome the odds since the day he was born.
"Why did that man walk so slow?" Alexis let the question fall out of her mouth.
I was glad she had asked. It's a sign of trust that she decided she could ask a question like that. I know I had opened the door for her, but still. She walked through the door.
I didn't want to say anything about birth defects or the likes since She Who Thinks Too Much could adapt any such talk into a reason to lose sleep over the Tiny Human's development, so I kept my explanation very general. "His body isn't shaped quite the same as most people's, so he has to work really hard to walk." I continued on to explain a little bit more, making sure I kept things general. I emphasized how much I admired him for working as hard as he clearly has.
I mean, seriously, how can you not be impressed by someone who probably had to fight to learn to walk? And then fight harder to learn to talk? That guy is stronger than most people.
I have no idea if I handled the whole thing correctly or if I made a bigger deal than necessary out of something that really was nothing, but I hope Alexis walked away understanding a little bit more about the world. Mostly I hope she learned different is OK ... and sometimes different is something to be admired, even if it doesn't seem like it on the surface.