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Etiquette 101 People can be oh-so polite |
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Hounded by new-age gurus and harassed by an increasingly calorie-conscious medical establishment, American fast food giants McDonalds and KFC are dropping anchor in unsullied shoals of the developing world. Lax food monitoring standards, growing brand-consciousness among the upwardly-mobile burgeoning middleclass, backed up by high-octane advertising, have all allowed these food chains to establish great clout in their new frontiers. They can now brush aside accusations of peddling bird-flu suspect chicken in their ‘crisps’ as easily as swatting flies.
As galling as their lack of scruple over the import of ‘Brazilian’ chicken is, my main gripe with Colonel Harland Sanders’ KFC and its sister franchise Pizza Hut concerns their famous customer harassment.
No sooner have you entered Pizza Hut, a young lad in gaudy red cap manning the counter, which must be at least 10 feet away from the entrance, barks out his greeting, his white teeth glinting in the fluorescent light: “Good Afternoon, Sir! Welcome to Pizza Hut.” I am not exaggerating when I say he barks it out, for the young man (or lissome lass, as often) doesn’t have the time to wait till you cross over to the counter. No sir, the torrent of words, capped by that stupid grin, start assaulting you the moment you step in. You have been warned: for someone unused to American small-talk marketing, it can be quite a shock.
ILLUSTRATION: SWORUP NHASIJU
But your ordeal would have only just begun. Next, you go to the counter to place your order. When you make your preference known, the young salesperson repeats you at the top of his voice—just to make sure, of course. This is followed by a completely out of place ‘suggestion’: “Would you like ‘this’ to go with ‘that’, sir?” It’s so sweet, it’s cloying. But he rambles on: “Would you like it packed, sir?”
Asian returnees from mainland US used to regale their loved ones back home with the tales of ‘culture shock’. A Nepali or a Vietnamese or a Chinese would recount how uncomfortable they felt at being thanked for just about everything they did (or didn’t do). The growth of mass media and ease of travel might have torn down many of these cultural walls, but it still feels spooky to be pummeled in your own country by the most annoying aspect of the American consumerist culture.
During their training in ‘customer service’, young men and women are made to overstep the thin line between politeness and obsequiousness, the subtle but important difference at being truly happy at the happiness of others and plastering a smile on your face to flog a veggie burger. This ‘fake it till you make it’ mantra of happiness is being promoted even though recent studies suggest those used to putting up fake smiles in the course of their work (airhostesses, salespersons) are prone to depressive spells at the end of the day.
The business case for ‘service with a smile’ has been made so strong that people from every walk of life are being trained to ‘flash it’ in the most inappropriate situations. The Eastern tradition of temperance seems to have become rare even in its traditional abode.
Not too long ago, I used to be routinely woken up early in the morning by some young wannabe writer: “Please sir, will you have one look at my write-up? Please sir, it would mean so much to me!” This kept happening one, because I was stupid (I kept dishing out business cards with abandon) and two, despite the fact that the official automatic reply make it crystal clear that phone calls would not be entertained.
Invariably, what the article lacked in substance, the caller would be trying to make up in pigheadedness and cherry-picked words of flattery. Those whose articles were really up to the mark, unsurprisingly, almost never called. It got so bad at a one point that someone started to thank me profusely just for picking up the phone!
A little more worldly wise, I keep my cell on silent mode before going to bed these days.
Even if they can be annoying, it’s relatively easier to mouth a few rude words at youngsters as compared to some of the older contributors. This subset of the taught-by-experience retired bureaucrats is beset with a different problem. They like to conjure up the most outlandish ‘ancestral’ and ‘hometown’ linkages and try to emotionally blackmail you into publishing their articles, apparently packed with a wealth of ‘firsthand’ experience. Thankfully, it is the boast of this same experience which forestalls any pretence of modesty.
“True modesty is the crowning grace of high achievement,” writes the prolific Canadian humorist Peter McArthur in An experiment in modesty. “But conscious modesty is an offence to all who are forced to endure it.” Including unsuspecting KFC customers and sleep-deprived newspaper editors, I might duly add from my firsthand experience.
The writer is the op-ed editor at Republica.
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