I have come to the conclusion that the world would be a better place if there was an "opt out" button on everything. Spam, junk mail, filling stations, grocery stores, Walmart, co workers, friends and even family; how nice it would be to check a little box and be done with them. 

Of course, you would have to have a good reason to toss them out. And most of those people and things mentioned are valuable to us. Yet there are plenty of things that, with a little courage, unsubscribing is just what is warranted.

When it comes to sandwich shops, there are basically two. You might think that the one best known - the biggest - would fall victim to its own success. They might forget the little things that set them apart in the first place, even fall back a little on service, quality and cleanliness. The second place sandwich maker, on the other hand, would spend most of their time trying harder. This is a story of opposites.

The second place shop happens to have a type of sandwich I like. They are known for tasty combinations and oven toasted concoctions. But the shop near me has a problem: they are staffed with idiots. And one change in ill-trained staff seems worse than the last. Still I gave them not one, not two, but three chances to serve an otherwise good tasting sandwich without an unordered side dish of apathy, irritation and just plain bad manners.

This past week I thought I'd see if they had found some reasonable young people who were not so self-absorbed as to actually give a little customer service. I walked in - as though invisible - and greeted, well, not greeted at all by a young man who was too busy preparing an order to give me a look, a hello, a "be with you in a minute," or anything at all. So I stood there, waiting.  Finally, when the presumably perfect hoggie was in the oven, he looked up and said - and I'm not kidding - "what's yours?" Okay, I was really hungry and I wanted one of their prime Angus sandwiches WITHOUT CHEESE. I said the simple request three times. No Cheese. All right, not much there.

On the other side of the oven another young man was staring at me like I had three heads. I said, "can you put a little lettuce on that?" His head bobbled back toward the oven. No words. The sandwich finally came out. How many of you are surprised that bubbling on top was a glob of yellow goo, otherwise known as cheese? "Is that CHEESE? I said three times, no cheese." I didn't get angry, I walked. That place was not the first brick and mortar joint I decided to no longer patronize, but it might be the first to which I have unsubscribed.   

In a tight economy a business must think beyond providing a good product, it might be more important to give customers that pleasant experience. We are becoming accustomed to the anonymous severing of any association at the click of a button. It's only a matter of time before that practice of virtual rejection becomes all too real, all too often.  



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