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    « TALES FROM THE OTTER SIDE | Main | A VERY NOSY BEE »
    Friday
    Jun122020

    Jack W. Little, Jr.


    AFTER A LONG DAY

     

    When I was 10-years-old and living in the small town of Ringoes, New Jersey, a restaurant called Weiner King opened in Flemington, the big town a few miles away. Quickly, it became the center of a young boy’s universe. “Can we go to the Weiner King, Mom? Please? Please?”

     

    It was a shack in those days when customers walked up to an outside window to order. It seemed like the parking lot was always filled with cars and people whenever we went, too. It was a big hit and I couldn’t wait until I was old enough to work there. Of course, that was probably many boys’ fantasy then.

    By the time 1968 rolled around and I was old enough, I decided it was now or never and my mother took me over to apply. By then, the tiny shack had been replaced with a larger building; one with an enclosed front counter and dining room on the side. Boldly and confidently, I swung open one of the front doors and walked up to the counter. A young woman came to wait on me.

    “Hello,” I said, “could I please talk to the manager?” There. That wasn’t so hard.

    It wasn’t long before an older man walked up to me. By old, I mean older than me. “What can I do for you.”

    He looked me over and I asked him if he was hiring. “I’m looking for a job.” I made certain I looked presentable. Clean white shirt and slacks. I told him I’m a hard worker, too, but that was just around the house stuff.

    “Well,” he said, “I don’t really need anyone right now.” Disappointment, for sure. He handed me an order slip and said, “Why don’t you put your name and phone number on the back and I’ll give you a call when I need someone.”

    Absolutely, I thought, and wrote my info down. In those days, my handwriting was impressive. Today, it’s chicken scratch. “Thank you very much. I know you’re a busy man and I won’t keep you. I do hope to hear from you soon.”

    And out I went.

    The following Friday, less than a week later, the phone rang and it was Jack. “Can you start tomorrow?”

    “YES, SIR!”

    “Come in at 10 and wear a white shirt and nice pants.”

    The next morning, I walked in wearing a tie, too. He chuckled and told me I didn’t need it and then helped tie an apron around my waist. Angie Rocco was my trainer and for the next thirteen years, on-and-off, Jack helped mold me into who I am and who I’ve been for all of my adult life.

    I’ve always been cool, but Jack was cooler.

    I’ve always been funny, but Jack was funnier.

    I’ve always been smart, but Jack was smarter.

    I’ve always been quick-witted, but Jack was faster.

    I’ve always been a hard worker, but Jack worked much harder.

    I’ve always been great at customer service, but Jack out-serviced me.

    I’ve always been honest, and so was Jack.

    He told me I was the best manager he ever had.

    Well, what would you expect?

    Here’s an example of his workmanship and how it affected me. I wrote it in 2012 due to fighting in the comments section of my blog; comments related to the George Zimmerman case. I tried to calm the masses:

    “I took great pride in [becoming a manager] due to one thing; one person. I had the utmost respect for my boss, Jack Little, and I still do. He was the best boss a person could ever have and he helped raise me, whether he knew it or not. If I was his best manager, it was because of what he taught me as an employer, a father figure, and a decent and honest human being. It was the respect he showed others that was instilled in me. And from him, I learned how to be as cool as a cucumber under fire. Don’t panic! Think fast on your feet.

    “Inherent in any business, in order to be successful, is customer service. That’s the single most important factor, especially in a restaurant, where a customer wants to walk into a clean place, filled with smiling faces eager to serve you. It’s one of the cardinal rules of the service industry; service with a smile — and what you serve had better be just as good.

    “I was much younger then and it was not unusual for me to put in 80-hour workweeks; nominally, 60. I was quite sharp in those days, too. There was a time — I kid you not — that a series of events (call them major breakdowns) hit me all at once and I had to render split-second decisions. In the middle of a lunch rush, of all times, a deep fryer stopped working, a toilet overflowed, a customer complained that their order wasn’t prepared right, and two of the front counter girls decided it was the proper time to pick a fight with each other. Yup, in front of hungry customers, anxious to get their food and go back to work; customers who couldn’t care less about Debbie and Sue, nor their boneheaded boyfriends and who they flirted with.

    “From Jack, I learned how to work under pressure — how to deal with the daily events in the life of a restaurateur. Find ‘em and fix ‘em fast. He also taught me how to deal with people at all levels. After all, that’s what customer service really is, but it doesn’t stop there. It also includes the interaction between employees. How can a business run smoothly if there are underlying problems?

    “On that particular day, I called each girl to the back room, one at a time. By taking them out of the argument, I accomplished the first thing; they couldn’t fight. I told them that if I heard another word, I would fire them on the spot and handle the lunch rush without them. I had other boys and girls working at the time and we’d just have to work harder. Most importantly, they would be out of a job and I stressed that a thousand other kids were banging at my back door begging for work. Yes, they were kids.

    “‘But, but, but,’ they tried to explain in their whiny voices, ‘Debbie did this’ and ‘Sue did that’ and each boyfriend was somehow involved. I didn’t want to hear about it.

    “‘Yeah, yeah, yeah,’ I said, ‘but this is not the time or place. Customers don’t want to listen to your petty fights, do they?’

    “Basically, all it took was a minute to talk to each of them alone and things quickly settled down. I had learned a long time ago not to take sides, too. That was most important. NEVER TAKE SIDES because, in the end, I would be the only loser. And darned if it wasn’t the truth. After the lunch rush was over and things got cleaned up, wouldn’t you just know those two girls had already patched things up? There they were, taking their lunch break together, sitting at one of the tables and laughing up a storm. It was as if nothing ever happened. Had I taken sides, I would have been the real bonehead and worthy of the title. Just like Jack said.”

    Overall, there are many aspects of my life that I can directly relate to his ethics. Now retired, I’ve never had a boss that reached his level.

    Today, I pay homage to the man who had more influence in my life than any other.

    Jack W. Little, Jr.

    June 20, 1939 — June 6, 2020

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