I know you may find this surprising, but I have a severe genetic disease. It’s called, “REALLY?” syndrome. This may come as a shock, but the results and side effects of this disease are very difficult to manage and control. Here are a few examples.
I go to a nice restaurant with my wife. This place generally has amazing service. We walk in and are immediately greeted by one of the nicest hostesses ever. I tell her we need seating for two and would prefer a booth. I look past the hostess desk throughout the restaurant and see many available booths. We were in luck. No, wait. Not so much. She extended her hand, gave us a never-ending flashing pager, and told us it would flash and vibrate when our table was ready. I thought, “REALLY?”
Fifteen minutes later the hostess sat us in a comfortable booth and we waited patiently for our waitress. We waited and waited and waited and waited. No waitress. Everyone around us was drinking his or her diet cokes and tea. I was parched, nearly dehydrated, and near death. No waitress. I thought, “REALLY?”
She came to our table and took our drink orders and 10 minutes later we were drinking tea and water. That’s right. 10 minutes later. I thought, “REALLY?” Surely she noticed my cracking lips and swollen and dehydrated tongue. Nevertheless, 10 minutes later, I was finally drinking.
We ordered an appetizer and 15 minutes later she brought it to our table. Yep. You guessed it. It was the wrong appetizer. It was something we didn’t even order. So, she took it back and we waited another 10 minutes or so before receiving the correct appetizer. I thought, “REALLY?”
At this point in the evening, I was beginning to wonder if I was the cause. Guess what….I was. You see, I have this genetic disease that causes things to operate much slower when I’m present. If there is a line, it usually stops moving when I get in it. If hot food is involved, it is usually cold when I get it. It’s just me. A genetic disease passed down from my mother. I don’t know who gave it to her, but I’m sure there is an extra gene somewhere in our bodies.
Finally, we got our steaks and ate them. They were cooked to perfection and tasted great. However, the service was less than perfect. I’m telling you, it’s my disease. It only happens to me. With my disease, I sometimes have difficulty feeling sympathy for others. In this case, I overcame my disease and began to discern the situation. Our server for the night was working her very first shift by herself. I’m sure she was confused while trying to keep everyone in her section happy. We gave her a huge tip because we figured no one else would. I tried to place myself in her position. People who were seated at tables all around us were arguing with her and talking to management about her slow service. However, once I put myself in her position, I looked at everyone else at other tables and said, “REALLY?”
You know, sometimes it is good walk a mile in the shoes of others. We don’t know their family life. We don’t understand the kind of day they’ve had at home. We don’t know if they are in an abusive relationship. We don’t know if they recently lost a child or other family member to an accident or suicide. We don’t know what we don’t know. So, I would encourage you to err on the side of compassion and less judging. Treat others gently and kindly or you just might find your self in the doctor’s office trying to diagnose your own set of “REALLY” symptoms!