Having had a particularly bad day, I reached home, dog-tired and drained, irritable and unhappy. You see, just that evening, an order I was expecting for my fledgling training business to get finalized fell through. And that too for reasons which had nothing to do with my company’s ability to deliver.

Just when I was getting into a mellow mood and trying to ride over the bitter taste of an order just lost, the front door bell rang. Unhappy at having visitors today, I went to take a look. At the gate was a youngish man, maybe nineteen or twenty years old, with a flipchart in his hand.

“Yes?” That was me, impolite, rude and generally angry at the world.

“Sir, you haven’t paid your last month’s datacard bill. I have come to collect a cheque as it is overdue.”

Fuelled by irritation at these service providers, their collection agents and the knowledge that I had written out the cheque myself well before the due date, I let him have it. He kept protesting meekly that his office records showed that I had not paid up. And I kept blasting him, telling him off in no uncertain terms. I stormed inside and then stormed back and thrust my cheque book at him asking him to see the cheque payment entry I had made in the name of his company 12 days before the due date. When he was left speechless, I shouted at him that I never wanted to see him again at my doorstep because I was, hold on, the most timely repayer of all dues and he could check his company records to verify my claim, thank you very much.

The hapless fellow hung his head, apologized endlessly for the trouble he had caused, mounted his bike and rode off into the evening.

I went to put my cheque book back into my folder and a loose cheque floated out. Yes, you guessed it. It was the very cheque for which I had moments ago made that man’s life miserable. Of course, I had written out the cheque but forgot to drop it in the drop box. Feeling stung at the shame of it all, I stood rooted to the spot, kicking myself mentally for the ass I had made of myself and for treating the man so shabbily.

Putting on my outside clothes and throwing on a jacket, I climbed into my car and dashed off to the service provider’s nearest cheque drop box. When I entered the office, cheque in hand, who do you think I saw standing there, discussing his collection tour for the day with his boss? Yes the very same, battered young man. When he saw the cheque in my hand, he smiled knowingly, but graciously. Till that moment, I never knew shame could burn one so badly. It consumed me completely. Sheepishly, I mumbled my sincerest apologies to him, no holds barred, shook his hand and shuffled out, my ears red and guilty. I vowed that day, never to fire away before checking my bearings first!

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Jones Mathew offers marketing consultancy besides running a soft skills training company Keystone Training Solution. Visit his website at www.keystonetraining.net.

Let me explain this with a real incident. At a 5-star restaurant once, a rather well-educated gentleman, entourage in tow, sat himself down pompously. A rather garrulous and loud account, punctuated by louder ha ha ho ho’s of his visit to Ho Chi Minh City was on all the time in complete disregard of the other patrons’ desire for privacy.

Before any waiter could approach him, the gentleman in our story turned himself in the general direction of the nearest waiter, who, at that moment was serving an NRI family at the next table, and did “Shhhhh! Waiter!” in his loudest hiss and voice. Now, that really got everybody in the dining area bristling. Some (like me) wished the fellow would just fall to the ground and spare us. The waiter, trained by manners and chained by his need for a job, arrived at the said gentleman’s table in complete submission. His smile seemed to say, “I would love to get my hands on your thick neck and choke the air out of you, you @#$%#.”

Armed with the menu card, the gentleman in our story fired out his selection of dishes too fast for the waiter to jot it down in his pink order-pad. At this, our “hero” got furious and started abusing him. After listening to his tirade patiently, the waiter got it all down finally and then proceeded to the kitchen. The loud conversation from the said gentleman’s table continued to assail everybody’s senses for some more time. And I for one was fervently hoping for the food to be delivered to his table so that his mouth would shut up and give other patrons some time to pursue their conversations without having to shout their respective lungs out.

Finally, the food was served and horror of horrors, the waiter committed the crime of mixing up one dish. The gentleman flew off his handle and yelled at the waiter and called for the manager. Not satisfied with that he yelled for the GM of the hotel and loudly complained to him as well, all the while making sure that the waiter got it left, right and centre. The waiter now was on the verge of tears, unable to say anything save apologize profusely. The GM massaged the gentleman’s ego long enough to quiet him down.

At the time of paying the bill the GM came to the gentleman and said something to him in a voice loud enough for those of us seated near him to overhear, “Sir, my sincerest apologies for what happened. You see, the waiter just lost his wife yesterday. Since we are short of staff we had no option but to ask him to report for duty today. Please excuse him.”

The gentleman fell silent and looked at his plate in utter embarrassment. The point was driven home deep.

Moral of the story: We must remember that the lowly, bumbling waiter, is also a human being with emotions and a sense of loss at times.

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Jones Mathew offers marketing consultancy besides running a soft skills training company Keystone Training Solution. Visit his website at www.keystonetraining.net.