The Customer is Always Right? －お客さんはいつも正しい？－

I went to the supermarket this morning with a guide.  My guide helps me do my shopping, taking me around the aisles and looking for the items that I request. 

I wanted to buy some dried apricots, which I had bought before.  But this time my guide couldn’t find them in the dried fruits section. 

She turned round and said, “Hold on.  I’ll ask someone about the apricots.” 

I heard her asking someone behind me, and a young man answering. 

“I think they should be on this shelf here, if they are here at all,” he said.  “Let me see…  There are prunes, cherries, raisins.  But I don’t see any apricots.” 

My guide got a little impatient with the young man.  “Well, do you have the apricots or don’t you?  Have they been moved to another shelf?” 

The young man got a bit flustered at the criticism and then said, “You know, I don’t actually work here.  I’m just a customer.” 

It was quite embarrassing.  We had been pestering the man and getting him to search the shelves, somehow assuming that he was a staff member. 

I never did find those dried apricots.  I will have to make do with prunes instead.

 

A Shot at Glory －栄光への一撃－

“I could [have] had class.  I could [have] been a contender. I could [have] been somebody – instead of a bum, which is what I am.”

Spoken by Marlon Brando’s character in the 1954 film, “On the Waterfront”

 

What makes success?  Opportunity, certainly.  Hard work, generally.  And a little bit of luck, more often than people like to admit. 

My son’s elementary school was testing the physical prowess and endurance of its children recently.  In an endurance test, the children had to run between two points and back again before a certain time limit was reached.  The time limit got shorter and shorter as the test progressed, making the feat harder to achieve even as the kids got more tired.  As soon as the child failed to make the goal one time, the test was over and the number of completed runs the child had managed was counted up. 

From memory, my son completed only about 14 runs in the same test last year.  But he goes to a karate dojo, and they have been practicing a similar activity.  So my son was doing much better this year.  He got to twenty runs, then thirty.  He passed forty runs, then fifty.  Now he was approaching the best performers in his whole school year.  There were only two boys still ahead of him.  He tasted glory.  To be the top performer in his whole year! 

At 55 completed runs, one of my son’s shoes suddenly fell off.  We had bought him a new pair of gym shoes recently, and had bought a pair that were a little too big for him, so that he could grow into them.  The new shoes cost him his shot at glory.

There is always next year….

 

Stepping Out 一歩踏み出す

One advantage to watching a story on television, rather than watching a story being told at a theatre, is that the actors on television cannot step out of the screen and attack the viewer.  At least, as long as the character of Sadako in the Japanese horror film “Ring” is really only fictional. 

Just how different it is to watch a play was felt by an audience member in a London theatre this week.  After an emotional play about a serious topic finished, one of the actresses came back out onto the stage.  She then pointed into the front rows and complained that an audience member had been texting on his smartphone all through the play’s most dramatic and emotional scene.  The actress asked him to consider how difficult this was for the actors to see, given the effort they were putting into telling a powerful story. 

“I just hope you are a doctor and were texting something vital to save a patient’s life,” she said. 

The rest of the audience gasped and applauded the actresses criticism of the distracted texter. 

I think people should do this more often.  When my family and I had just finished our meal at a family restaurant, we went to a self service cash machine to pay the bill.  Several people were standing in front of the only machine, chatting to each other instead of putting their money in and letting the next person have access. 

We just stood quietly and waited for them to leisurely finish their conversation and eventually get round to paying.  What we should have done was step into their little bubble of reality like Sadako. 

“People… I think you will find that there is a queue forming behind you.  As much as we are all fascinated to hear about your nephew’s school grades, I think it is time for you to PAY ATTENTION TO WHAT YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE DOING!” 

I’m not being too harsh, am I?  No, I didn’t think so.