Customer service shouldn't be lip service

Periodically while traveling I run into ... one of them.

"I only have you a short time this morning, folks," says the bus driver at Houston's Bush Airport as he shuts the door, "but during these few moments you can forget about things - I've got you, I'm going to get you to where you're going and do it safely. So relax." And we do. He means it. He's showing kindness to tired and tense travelers, leaking care and respect everywhere he goes. And it's contagious.

Service - almost every company talks about it - "... your call is important to us..." But we've numbed to the script. If it was important you wouldn't have to wait to talk to someone. Wouldn't honesty be refreshing? "Your call is a 4 out of 10 on our priority list. We don't have anyone to talk to you because that costs money. Dislike us, but not so much you'll shop elsewhere. Have an OK day."

These days those who care - a business or an individual - are a city on a hill. We're realizing that while we were hypnotized by the recent economic profundity, our values were switched out like a matching briefcase in a spy movie. We're learning the hard way it's back to basics, people, and caring, and as I tell my kids, leaving the room (the world) a better place than when you walked into it.

I guess that's why the bus driver perturbed me. He was next to me at a light. A gorgeous spring day, everyone enjoying driving with a window open. But out of his comes a wrapper, tossed in an ultimate act of hypocrisy - throwing trash out of your vehicle to keep your vehicle clean.

Some might suggest I need to relax a little, it's one piece of trash. But walk along the Fox River and you'll see thousands of pieces of "relax-a-little" washed ashore.

I'm guessing the bus driver didn't reassure his passengers, either. I try to give him a break: long day, boring job, not a lot of pay. But then I realize there's a guy in Houston for whom that didn't matter.

Mark Demel

Elgin