“The Help…”

I have a friend of mine who at one point started to call everyone who was in a service oriented job “The Help.” If you were a waiter, you were called “The Help.” If you were a gardener, “The Help.” If someone was in any of these types of positions then they were all labeled, “The Help.” There were many reasons for this, several of which were likely not all that honorable. But this weekend I kept coming back to this idea of “The Help.”

This weekend, my sister and I took my parents on the Museum of Neon Art’s tour of Los Angeles. The tour was amazing, and the tour guide was the very definition of the word Help. He pointed out many of the very interesting buildings and their history as well as the status of many of the neon signs we passed. While his rhetoric was repetitiveat several times, it was something I was not quite looking forward to that turned out to be a great time.

Before the trip we had the pleasure of eating at Traxx. This wonderful restaurant is located at Union Station, in Los Angeles. The food was wonderful, and the atmosphere was classic. The train station is described as the Last of the Great Railway Stations built in the United States. We also had a great time at the restaurant and the waiter and staff were the very definition of “Help.”

My first choice for the evenings meal was Cicada. My sister and I looked online for a place in downtown and this restaurant was recommended by several sites. I tried to make reservations online, and when I went to Opentable.com, I was told that there were no seats available on Saturday. Well, I have been confounded by Opentable.com in the past when I tried to get reservations at Grace several months ago. I was able to quickly circumvent this problem by calling Grace directly and getting a table. (At this point I’m going to insert a parenthetical shout out to Chris Cognac for introducing me to the place before their Chef won Iron Chef America.)

So I called Cicada, and spoke with the person who answered the phone. The conversation went something like this.

“Hello.”
“Hello, what are your hours on Saturday?”
“I’m sorry we are closed on Saturday for a special event.”
“Oh,… ”
“As a matter of fact we are closed every Saturday for special events. You will have to dine with us some other evening if you wish to experience our cuisine.”
“…Ok, thank you very much.”
Click

It now seems that I will never go to Cicada, as they seem to have the most arrogant staff I can possibly think of. All I wanted was to make a reservation, which I couldn’t, and that’s ok. The problem was the condescending attitude. I understand some people want their “Help” to mistreat them. Think of all the stereotypical European butlers you have seen in movies or read about in books; I get the attraction. But I am not some stuffy rich guy; I’m a born and bred Southern Californian who has a pretty laid back attitude. I want my “Help” to at least be helpful, and if you are not going to be helpful, be at least gracious. Above all, don’t be a jerk.

While I am sure that Cicada, can survive without my recommendation and business, I wanted to pass the following lesson on. Many times throughout the day, I find myself in the role of “The Help.” My boss looks to me to help him program computers. My co-workers look to me as a thought leader on web related issues. Each of us looks to the people around us to “Help” them through the day. When this happens, we need to remember that we need to be helpful when possible, and to quickly and graciously say “I don’t know, I can’t help you, let me find someone who can” when we can’t. Don’t have a bad attitude, and don’t be rude. Don’t be a dumb black and red Cicada.