Innocently I posted an image on my hilariously honest customer service group on facebook@suitea$$service and my author page on facebook@tammymayhewauthor. Naively I was trying to lighten the mood and remind people to just BE NICE! Wow never thought I would get the political backlash that I did.

The image is of a simple laminated sign that basically says: yes customers have the right to refuse to wear a mask while reminding the public that private businesses have the right to require one to enter their business. It then goes on to say that no matter what we each have the right to decide for ourselves and live with the consequences. The most important message and purpose of the sign was when it asked for folks to please not yell at the employees regarding the need to mask or not. It reminded them it was not the employee’s decision. My favorite part of the sign was where it states that if you yell at them, are rude to them or mistreat them for enforcing the policy they did not create then you are not being patriotic, rather you are just being an asshole.

I absolutely and unequivocally love the true point of the sign. After all it is the repeated theme in my book My Suite A$$. The theme being “If you can’t be nice, at least don’t be a dick”. The purpose of the sign was not to further the debate over mandating masks. WOW, mind blown! All of this is NOT that complicated, the true purpose of the sign was to just BE NICE!

Look we don’t have to agree on things. We can choose to wear a mask or not. We can choose to patronize a business or not. We can choose any side of a political issue. These are our rights.

What you can do (besides yelling or cursing at the poor person serving you).

  1. You want to make a difference or change a mind?
    Talk to the owner
    Write a strongly worded letter to corporate
    Shop somewhere else (Exercise your rights)
    Attend a government meeting (let your voice be heard)

I fail to see how anyone’s angry or foul mouthed rant directed towards a cashier, clerk, wait staff, service team, sales person or security guard accomplishes anything constructive.

To the contrary it serves to just further the disrespect, the intolerance, the acceptance of bad behavior, and it might just get your childish outburst posted on you tube or social media. Personally that is not how I want to become famous. BEING NICE, seems like such a small thing, and it takes such little effort, but it has a BIG impact. I had to remind folks on almost every site I shared it with that it was not a political statement, rather a lesson in how to treat people. So please, please, please remember these hard and fast rules when faced with this conundrum:

1. BE NICE

2. BE NICE

3. BE NICE

Would love to read your thoughts on this blog at www.tammymayhew.com (non political) or experiences with this.

Customer Service Stupidity, Theirs or Ours?

I vote theirs. First let me shout out to all my fellow service warriors for all you do. Go to my blog post “They” to know how much I appreciate your jobs’ rewards and frustrations. It never ceased to amaze me how stupid some customers thought we Service Warriors were. That is what one could only assume for the requests and demands that we received on a regular basis in all genres of customer service, from some of our well healed, valued customers. These errant questions lead to the all to familiar awkward smile and brief silence while we garnered the energy and strategy necessary to diffuse and redirect our deceiving demanding guest.

  • Using their friends credit card for a purchase and have no ID.
    • Who travels without any form of ID.
  • Telling me the unleashed dog that just shit on my carpet is a well-trained service animal.
    • Throws a fit when we charge them the pet fee and hand them a rag and cleaning fluid.
  • The old man who thinks I will comply when he requests that only a female team member deliver his room service.
    • This just happened for the umpteenth time last week and when our male delivery team member knocked on the door the man was only wearing loose pajama pants held up by his hand. We all know what would have happened next.
  • Assuring us that because they paid for a room, they can treat our team any way they want.
    • You paid for a room not my integrity and self-respect.
  • That they have travelled all over the world and never had an incidental hold on their credit card.
    • By whole world you mean towns small enough that the only thing to do there is leave?
  • That they eat out all the time and have never had a gratuity automatically added to a party of 8 or more.
    • Nice to know you treat your family to drive thru on a regular basis.
  • That we should not require a valid credit card at check in, because they are going to pay cash in the morning.
    • Oh hell no. Enough said.
  • That they have never paid more than $49.00 for a room ever.
    • Thank you for finally travelling since 1978 and I can direct you to a place that will fit your economic profile if you prefer.
  • Can’t we just finish paying for our wedding two months after?
    • As per the stories in my hilarious book, My Suite A$$!, available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble, you could be divorced by then.
  • Why are you asking for my ID, I turned 21 last year. (Acting insulted)
    • Well if you actually looked old enough to shave on a regular basis I wouldn’t, but you don’t.

My hospitable nature had its’ limits even though examples and levels of customer ignorance did not. For some tips on how to survive these ones, click here. Share with me below or on my facebook page @tammymayhewauthor, some of the requests from guests that you have had that just made you question, Really? or at the very least your sanity or career choice.

They Are There

Customer Service. When you are scared and in need of shelter from an abusive partner. They are there. Your name will be kept private, your room number will be guarded, They will keep you safe.

When nature displays its’ unforgiving reign upon your home and you need shelter and food. They are there. Warm meals, a soft bed, a phone to call loved ones, a hot shower to wash away the fears, a willing and sympathetic ear. They will reinforce your resolve.

When the world is disrupted, provoked by the most hateful of men and hearts. They are there. Doors will be opened, with only the need, not a request. They will feed you and those that are there to rescue and protect you. They will fortify your bodies.

When heaven has called for a piece of your heart. They are there. Details will be tended, dresses and suits fitted and pressed, flowers arranged in tribute, life’s and lord’s words copied in short time to comfort, savory and sweet will be laid for weary guests and family. They will lighten your burden.

When time serves joyous morsels upon your life. They are there. Champagne and rose petals abound with chocolates and well wishes. Smiles and laughter advance the merriment. They relish your happiness.

When you have shown great indiscretion. They are there. Messes will be cleaned, forgotten items safeguarded, profane words overlooked and coarse behavior disregarded. They will rise above your discourse.

They, we, are always there. Welcoming and serving our guests and neighbors in crisis, sorrow and joy. Service warriors everywhere, desk clerks, housekeepers, maintenance, servers, bartenders, cooks, clerks, technicians, janitors, delivery people, drivers, cashiers, laundry, dishwashers, clerks and many others.

I say thank you, because I know you are essential every single day. Helping is in you nature. You will never have the cool uniform or bask in the media’s glory. You will continue, you will work, you will serve. Please know it does not go unnoticed, at least not by some. Thank you.

I just wanted to make sure we all recognized what we and those around us do every day. My apologies, if I left out a job. I know many more are out doing what they do thru all of this, ranchers, farmers, truckers, postal workers, butchers, bakers, medical, utility, emergency services, corrections, military, fire, teachers and so many, many more. Let me know of a career I possibly missed. Want to make sure we recognize every one and what they are doing to keep our communities and country moving. Give a shout out to those you know and love below or on my facebook author page @tammymayhew,author.

The Name Tag Debate

“Hello my name is (fill in the blank as etched on my name tag), how may I help you?” There had been a great debate among many of my team members and colleagues over my long career in hospitality. As per a recent conversation with some of my service warrior friends still in the trenches, this debate rages on. I had the privilege of working with incredible people under some equally amazing franchise flags, and it was always mandated that we wear a name tag with our full name or first initial and last name or vice versa. As a GM mine also had to list my title, which I also hated.

I had good reason and rarely, unless we were being inspected, wore my name tag. It was a painfully obvious testament to human nature that the difficult or grossly unreasonable customer would treat me better than they treated my team members. As soon as they saw my name tag their tirade and tantrum would turn to sugar plums and bonbons. Not fair. I wanted to be treated just like my team and let the chips fall where they may.

With good cause I went so far as to petition my franchise for a waiver to this rule, only to have that request denied unilaterally without consideration. One of my supervisors had garnered the attention of a very serious stalker, one who followed her children to school and would let her know that they looked pretty and what they had been wearing. He ordered twenty pizzas to her department and had them delivered in her name to be paid. He broke into her department store room. She did everything right, she went to the police, got court orders to keep him away, and everything that could be put in place was. We all know a piece of paper, no matter who signs is doesn’t always stop them and it didn’t stop him. Her orders extended to work and we took it very seriously. My entire team was unnerved and scared.

Because of this incident I petitioned to take one of the following steps in the way of a waiver to the rule:

1. No name tags at all

2. Name tags with false names (list of which kept in office so we would be able to identify a team member if need be due to a customer comment.

3. Only use initials

4. Only use first names

The answer was a resounding NO. Undeterred, I called the head of the waiver request team and implored for reconsideration given the circumstances. The woman I spoke with, who will remain forever anonymous, said that while she could not give me formal waiver approval, the inspectors rarely or never verified the name on the tag itself. The call ended with an audibly sympathetic wink and a nod. I appreciated her back door advice but was upset that this was the only option both she and I had in easing the justifiable fear of my team.

What do you think full, false or no name tag? Should waivers be granted case by case, with good cause or a blanket change to just first name? What has been your experience and did you find other solutions you could share to help other fellow compromised service warriors?

What’s in a name? (To pen or not to pen)

Throughout my more than forty years of wonderfully chaotic customer service I have seen some and been called by some very, shall we say, colorful names. Had one customer whose name was that of a 1980’s porn star. I couldn’t even call her Ms. (Insert porn name here) when I was checking her in, at least not without a giggle or a smirk, so she was forever just Jennifer or ma’am. Then there was the guest whose parents had to be mind numbingly high when they named her.

I have been called everything from Tammy to Ms. Mayhew to Ms. Tammy to ma’am, from sweetie to honey, to darlin, to godsend, from hey you, to bitch to cu@&, to dumbass, to moron. You name it and I was probably called it one time or another. I despised some and cherished others. Anyone who has spent any length of time as a service warrior will either quit the first time they get screamed and cussed at or they develop a thick skin, pretty damn quick. Since I was baptized into customer service at the tender age of ten, I calloused up early in life.

I was taught to be proud of your name and protect it at all cost. In the end it is all you have and no one can take it away from you. The other day I saw a question on an author and writing site I belong to asking the question, “What do you think of a pen name, yes or no?” Without hesitation I responded a firm and confident, NO. The next question was, “Why not?”

I got on my high horse and proclaimed in writing, “Because it is my name and my name alone, and I am and always have been proud of it. I hope whatever I do I make the parents who named me, the man who loves me, the maker who created me and myself proud. It is who I am, and all the crazy chaotic pieces of my life that have made me me. I embrace it all and want to hear someone ask, “would you sign my book?” and not have to wonder how to sign my name. It is the authentic, organic, insecurely confident me. I have not spent this last year unscripting my life only to place its worth in a name I have not lived.”

That is the eloquent, small town, prideful response I wrote, but after I sent it I remembered the 80’s Porn Star and the Named By High Parents guests and one other that had 24 letters in their last name alone and thought, hhmmm, maybe pen names aren’t so bad. What would your pen name be?

“Enduring” to the end?

That is the question that hit me when I opened facebook today. A friend said she had to put together a talk for church about “Enduring to the End”. She was having a hard time putting it together and asked the ever-wise audience of social media for help. The answers were cookie cutter at best. Folks quoting scripture, stating it was our duty to endure all things. In doing so we would be a testament to our faith, and it was then that we fulfilled our goal of living a worthy or noble life. Dutifully enlightening and mostly full of crap.

Me, while looking at her request wrote a response. A response of, “Isn’t that exactly what is happening here on not such a giant life event scale? There is something you wish to accomplish as mundane as you think it may be. You are struggling, you are asking for help and you will finish it, seeing it through to the end. Enduring, and your question is what again?”

I left out the rest, the part that was running around in my overthinking brain as I read the ever-martyring responses of lives lived through their sacrifice only to end in a righteous death. Why the hell do you want to just endure? Life is to be lived, enjoyed, loved through, cried over, and laughed through.  Why does anyone even want you to write that piece? Endure what? My guess was accepting to do that talk when you really didn’t want to, or as I like to put it, you were voluntold what to do, and you did it.

How many of us never think of saying no? I know I didn’t. Tammy Mayhew wasn’t raised to say no and so many of you weren’t either.  I was raised in a family business. The world of service and hospitality, conditioned me to please other people at the expense of myself. Somehow other people’s needs, and feelings were above my own. I was conditioned to endure my own discomfort while pleasing everyone around me. For the most part the customer service world reinforces that ideology day after day after day.    

One official definition of the word endure is, “To continue to exist or experience a hardship over a long period of time”. Life was not intended to be “endured” it was meant to be lived. It is a frightening epiphany when you realize that instead of living your life, you endured it. Simply being, with just enough bits and pieces of love, joy, and happiness to sustain you. Living this way, or let me rephrase that, existing this way does not fortify the soul, it starves it.

Grab the pieces, all the pieces. The good, the bad, the joy, the chaos and the sorrow, and claim it as your own. Look ahead and reflect inward at what feeds YOUR soul. I did. Follow what you find, and bring all that you carry with you, use it build and shore up your path. I did. It is a daunting and scary proposition.

I don’t’ know what I was more afraid of; stepping outside my responsibly enduring comfort zone, letting the world see ME, or ME looking at myself and asking and answering those questions of my own heart. I did it and I have no regrets. It may have taken longer than I would have liked, but I did it and so can you. Unburden with me what you endure in your life? Share with me here or on my facebook author page@tammymayhew,author what feeds your soul? Inspire me with your dreams and beautiful chaos?

“Cuss” “to” “me” “rrrrr” Service!#$@*

I do not, and never will, think it is a coincidence that the phrase customer service starts phonetically with the word “cuss”. How many times have, any one of us, been cussed at when an unruly or entitled “cuss”tomer or guest was trying to force us into giving them whatever they wanted, regardless of whether or not it was deserved? If you have been a #customerservicewarrior for any length of time, I would say plenty of times. At least it was for me.

I can honestly say I was never actually cussed at when a customer had 1) a legitimate complaint, and 2) handled it in an appropriate manner. You know why? Because when they did, as all great #customerservicewarriors, Tammy Mayhew handled the situation and fixed the problem to satisfy the guest or customer. The key here and I will repeat; the customer had a valid complaint and dealt with it constructively. All of us did the very best that we could and provided the very best goods and services that we could. When that didn’t happen, we fixed it.

Then there were the one percent of “cuss”tomers who for some misguided reason believed that throwing around a number of foul words with ever increasing ferocity and pitch would somehow turn me into their cowering, delusional and spineless fairy godmother. They waved their fists like a magic wand, replacing abracadabra with a fevered misplaced, “Fuck you bitch!” We all know calling someone a bitch, cunt, fucker, dumbass or idiot with a prefix of mother, stupid, incompetent or fucking never put anyone in the mood to bend the rules for anyone.

You would think that when this happened, we would all get to level the playing field and release the little bitch that had, with the foul mouthed rant, been awakened in our minds. The one running rampant in our head trying to find a way past the forced smile and trembling hands. Sadly this wasn’t the case, not if we wanted to keep our jobs. Instead we would half heartedly nod, endlessly explain, fane an apology, and clench or teeth behind our smile in an attempt to contain and control our ever whirling justified bitchy little alter ego.

I never allowed it to happen to my team, without consequence to the customer. I always defended them. Myself not so much. I was nearly born into customer service and with that I developed a very thick skin. Scraps stitched together from foul language, names no child should be called, words an empathetic heart should never hear. I lost myself behind the sales counter. Shielded from their words by a cold hard piece of marble. Lost but fine. Always fine. (Insert smile here) Until I wasn’t anymore.

Do not lose yourself, do not listen to their rantings, do not accept their abuse, do not doubt your ability. Do smile and feel it inward, do your job well, live your life better, know your worth, defend your teams, unscript your life. And most off all keep a card handy with the contact information of at least two of your competitors and when you get the foul mouthed, unreasonable, narcissistic “cuss”tomer happily send them to darken the doorstep of your competition. Everyone will be happier, them, you and your team. Your competition maybe not so much.

I would very often tell them, in my very best sugar-coated customer service voice, “Thank you for the compliment and for the vocabulary lesson.” This never worked to well in diffusing the situation but it would make me feel better. This was right up there with letting a bitchy older (but not obviously older) customer know I gave them the senior discount, without them asking for it. Tell me what skillful little ways you have responded to a foul-mouthed, unjustified bitchy guest, when simple kindness and information did not work?

Thank you!

Just felt the need to thank all those hard working men and women out there tirelessly helping all of us get through this. It is kind of overwhelming when you think of these folks working so all of us can have what we need, still get educated, stay well and safe. Thank you doesn’t seem like enough so I will offer my prayers for each and every one of them as well. Did I forget anyone? Let me know below and if I did thank you to them as well. Bless you all and stay safe and healthy.

Dead Man Talking

Doesn’t that title just catch your attention? Well it should. This is a story of the best and worst of customer service from the same company. On February 19, of this year I am sorry to report that we lost a truly great man in our family, with the passing of my eighty-seven year old father-in-law. A couple of days after the funeral I spent the day, with my husband and brother-in-law making the necessary phone calls; utility company, pension fund, motor vehicle, banks and the cell phone company.

That day I spoke with an efficient, empathetic, well trained team member named Peggy. She walked us thru getting a code that she sent to his phone to verify the account, took all the necessary information, handled sending out a box to return his phone in and explained the final billing to us, which would be nothing once the phone was returned. She handled everything like an expert and hung up only after expressing her condolences. We were relieved to have one more thing checked off the list. The box was received as expected and we promptly returned the phone as promised.

A couple of weeks later we received a call from the team at my father-in-laws bank letting us know that a charge had been attempted against his now closed account, from the cell phone company. I assured her I would take care of it, as we had been assured it would be by Peggy. I thought no worries, since our experience with their team member had been so pleasant and professional.

With the kindness and courtesy with which we had been treated still fresh in my mind, and the notes from the previous call firmly in hand, I confidently called Verizon to inquire. This time a young woman answered and gave me her name as Marissa. I explained the entire sad situation, gave her my now deceased father-in-laws account # and phone # and asked if she could help. She told me she would have to speak with my father-in-law in order to access the account. Thinking she hadn’t heard me, I repeated that he was deceased and gave her the date of his passing. She politely asked me if she could put me on hold, to which I amicably agreed, naively thinking she would come back on the phone and all would be well.

She did come back on the phone, only to again tell me that in order to access the account and tell me anything she would have to speak to my father-in-law. Again, and now with some irritation behind my statement, I told her he was dead. She began to quote me FCC and privacy regulations. I again, more forcefully now told her that my father-in-law had passed and that Peggy had gladly helped us and gave her the date of the previous call. She told me that didn’t matter and that unless she could speak with my father-in-law there was nothing she could do. That’s when I asked to speak to a supervisor. Instead she again went on referring to the FCC and privacy regulations. I couldn’t help it, the bitch in my head burst out with, “Well let me just go dig him up and see if he is available to speak with you! and insisted on speaking with a supervisor.

After my frustrated demand and frazzled request, she put me on hold for forty-five minutes, checking back with me every couple of minutes and letting me know her supervisor was on a fraud call and would be a while. I would assure her each time I had no problem waiting. I waited, and waited, and waited only to have the call eventually disconnected on their end. Not to be discouraged, I called back and this time, spoke with a wonderful young man named Tony, who completely and courteously took care of the situation and was appalled by his fellow team members behavior and kept apologizing for it. I assured him he had no need to apologize, thanked him for his attention and assistance and did ask that he please inform a supervisor of my experience.

Three people, all trained the same, all of the human race, all working for the same company yet two very different experiences for the customer; Two people courteous, professional, empathetic, and attentive, one who was callous, unprofessional, dismissive and rude. How does this happen? How can a company be so randomly represented? I am absolutely positive this was not their intention or policy, as I have never received bad service through them, ever. That is why this was so very disturbing given the situation. How many of you have seen this type of random service where you work? Tell me how you have seen both ends of the service spectrum and how you handled it?

Survival Tips for Difficult (or Asshole) Customers

Ninety-nine percent of your customers will leave happy—if you are doing your job right, that is. Like good sex, the interaction leaves both parties feeling satisfied and happy. But then there is the other one-percenters. The ones that wouldn’t be happy even if you wiped their ass with golden toilet paper. We have all had them and were very often completely surprised when we encountered them for the first time, because there isn’t one customer service training program out there that can or does fully prepare you for the asshole customer. So, let my hard-earned wisdom give you a little help with how to deal with these dreaded difficult customers:

  • Always keep eye contact; you want to win that contest.
  • Nod as if you understand their unreasonable behavior and requests.
  • Happily, refer them to your supervisor, who hopefully will not tell them anything different than you have—if he does, either he is a spineless jackass, or you suck at your job.
  • Better yet, refer them to your co-worker and promptly take a bathroom break.
  • Listen attentively to their ramblings.
  • Utter the occasional “I understand how you feel and am sorry you feel that way.” (Even though you know there is not a damn thing you can do about the weather.)
  • Bite the inside of your cheek until you taste the blood trickle down your throat. When you taste that metal laden flavor, stop—they aren’t worth it.
  • Always have sturdy pens available that can withstand the pressure of your grip.
  • Know how to call emergency services—for yourself or for them.
  • Just like when a woman is in labor, have a plan. Identify an object to focus on until this painful interaction is over with; find your happy place.
  • Take their name and number and tell them you will call them right back—absolutely do so, but only after you have an answer and a plan
  • Only apologize if it is sincere and you can add, “let me fix that for you.” Nothing will piss off an already angry customer like an insincere apology, followed by “There is nothing I can do to help.”
  • Closely monitor the bitch running around in your mind; she keeps a file tucked in her pants for special occasions and will pick the lock of decency and professionalism the first chance she gets. Unfortunately, her idea and your boss’s idea of when her presence is appropriate and appreciated may be different.
  • Keep your bitch meter fine-tuned and in proper working order. If you think you hear a strange noise coming from it, ask for a second opinion before proceeding with any verbal or written communication. (It is imperative that you find a valid and talented bitch meter buddy for this purpose.)
  • Practice sarcasm with a smile. You know you have perfected your craft when you can call someone an asshole and they thank you for it.
  • Fight sarcasm with humor and small talk. Like my dear friend Betty once said, “It’s hard to slap a grinning man.” It’s even harder to stay mad at someone when a common thread has been established or a laugh has been shared.

What are your tips for dealing with difficult customers? Share them below!

Seeking your Best Life or Hiding in Plain Sight

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. Ready or not, here I come. Everyone has played hide and seek. Laughing, cautiously looking under, around and in, seeking our playmate or friends. It was always better to be the hider than the seeker, scoping out the never-before-used gem that would conceal us beyond discovery.  A victory if you were the last one found or better yet if they had to call you out. It was your best life.

As children we spent more hours hiding than seeking. For some of us we have spent a lifetime. We have become experts at hiding in plain sight. Skillfully keeping unnoticed barriers between ourselves and the world and people around us. Cloaks so expertly thrown that they are disregarded and overlooked by those passing by. We still find comfort and satisfaction in the mistaken anonymity of it all.

This is not to say we are skulking in a corner or brooding in a cubicle. Quite the contrary. We are out there, we are waiting on you with a gregarious laugh, expertly hidden by a waitress pad, pen and name tag. We are checking you in, with a perfectly rehearsed greeting and a friendly efficient smile, safely tucked behind the counter and fortified by our blazer. We are answering your call through the blind end of a telephone or chatting with you through the rhythm of a keystroke.  

It is easier to be outgoing when we put a well written script upon our tongue, refining it through repetition, like a well sharpened knife against an oiled stone. The sharpness of our delivery cutting through the awkward silence, drawing a smile and affirmation of self. We find comfort as we practice and perfect our speeches. We find succor in our skill and proficiency of making other people happy. We begin to define ourselves by what we do, rather than who we are, because often we don’t know what that means. We can’t become so good at hiding that we forget to seek.

Playing the game, we always searched for someone else, diligently leaving no stone unturned. When is the last time any of us put that much energy and effort into seeking ourselves? We often go into work and put on our persona along with our nametag and uniform, giving the best of ourselves to strangers. No one wants to step out of their well-fortified hiding place.  The soothing satisfying swaddle of well-practiced comfort is difficult to step away from.

Growing up, I was “voluntold” into a script for a much older character. The adolescent fun-filled game of hide and seek was gone by age ten, and I spent my days at my parents’ mom-and-pop hotel and diner, interacting more with adults than with children. At fifteen, with a life-altering accident under my belt, I found comfort on the stage of customer service, and replaced the relationships I had lost with professional ones. It was a safe place to be, one where I was accepted and found my worth in how well I pleased everyone around me. I was confident there. I endured. It took me years of baby steps, often overwhelming fear and anxiety, lots of tears, and the never-ending reassurance of my friends and family to fully step out of my hiding place.  

I am not saying go out and quit your job; after all, there all bills to pay and everyone needs to eat. Great if you can afford to do that, but if not, that’s okay too. We need to take a step from behind our safe place and see what we can bring to who we are. We need to ask ourselves what we have done to find us? What have we done that gives us that feeling of fear and excitement all at the same time?

Can we find one thing? Two things? Can we take one step? Can we do something we always wanted to do or something we never even considered? Even if we don’t like it, even if we fail, we tried it, and every experience adds a color to who we are. Like the broken beauty of a kaleidoscope. Life lies in the seeking, not the hiding. The more we seek, the better we will be, for ourselves and those around us. And who knows where those adventures will lead?

Say it and live it: One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten! Ready or Not, Here I come!

What are you doing to step out from hiding in plain sight? What are you doing to seek your best life? I’d love to read it below or share it to my facebook page @tammymayhew,author.

Why Wedding Receptions Should be Over by 10 p.m.

Every couple starts out thinking their wedding is going to be perfect, that they can plan enough, pay enough and be prepared enough to make it a blissfully perfect day filled with nothing but the ease of love and laughter. They have visions of happy sober guests dancing until the wee hours of the morning and everyone standing arm and arm, fully clothed, bidding them a fair adieu into the glorious sunrise.  They have seen the wedding fails on the Internet and they are certain those atrocities would never befall their wedding. Oh, the delusions of those blissfully in love. To increase the odds of a fairytale ending, leave your wedding by 10 p.m. (Or the latest 11 p.m.) Why, you may ask?

1. Asshole Hour starts at 11 p.m.

Wedding guests demonstrate at least a little self-control while the paid photographer, bosses and matriarchs are around. They are behaving themselves through dinner, the cake cutting, the toast, the first dance, the father-daughter dance, all the special moments you want to remember forever in film. Once those moments are over, all is fair in love and war. And you definitely want more love and less war.

2. Everything costs more after 10 p.m.

Normally the venue, the DJ and the photographer give you maximum time frames associated with the cost for the use of their space, equipment or talents. DJs are normally four hours, after that they will absolutely stay at your request, but it will cost you.

3. Everything you need to get done can be done in two hours

It’s true: you can eat, cut the cake, do the toasts, first dance, Daddy dance, let your guest get a few dances in, do the garter and toss the bouquet in two hours. That still leaves two hours of partying, dancing, visiting and fun. As a host, you always want your night to end on a high note and this way it will, and not with your boss or grandmother watching your maid of honor give a lap dance to your shirtless co-worker. So, if your reception begins at 6 p.m. you are golden.

4. You don’t want to learn things you didn’t want to know about your friends and family

Nothing is worse than seeing your cousin moon your entire wedding party; hell, you may even think it is funny at the time. That is until those pictures hit the World Wide Web with the hashtag of your wedding or until they circulate around the office breakroom. Or wow, no one knew your boss’s wife was a crying drunk and she is now sobbing in the photo booth.

5. Honeymooning

It has taken a year of dating, a year to plan and it’s over in the blink of an eye. As exciting and wonderful as that eye is, that false eyelash-laden, recently waxed, moisturized and cosmetically enhanced eye is tired—not to mention the person it’s attached to. No one realizes how physically and emotionally exhausting a wedding day can be. The preparations, activities, smiles, hugs and dancing will take their toll.

Enjoy every moment of it but take the time to bow out gracefully amid a flurry of well-wishers and begin your life together. You don’t want to be too tired for the honeymooning.

Do you have a wedding day horror story? I’d love to read it below.

Things I Will Not Do

Things I Will Not Do for any customer. Long, long ago I once naively said I would do anything for a customer as long as they paid me for it, and the request was legal and moral. After forty jaded year in customer service, I could choke on those words. I learned that while those boundaries mattered to me, they didn’t always matter to my customers. You ever have that customer who wanted you to do something for them that you wouldn’t do for anyone else on the planet? I don’t know why I’m actually asking that question, because of course you have.

Here is a sample of the things I would or will not do for any customer. (Lord knows this list is not all-inclusive.) 

  • I will not give you your room service order if you answer the door naked. (I will laugh when I see the size of what you think is my tip.)
  • I will not lift your naked wet husband out of the bathtub. (This will not end well, as neither myself nor my team has been trained in convalescent care. We may both end up in the tub. I will call an ambulance to assist.)
  • I will not give you access to my security camera footage to spy on your girlfriend at the bar. (Not only will I not do that, you run the risk of me telling said girlfriend what you asked me to do.)
  • I will not let you go see a room unaccompanied.  (My hotel room is not your assured-to-be-clean public restroom.)
  • I will not babysit your children in the lobby. (If you are not interested in watching your little angels, what makes you think I am? I will promptly and always send them back to your room.)
  • I will not suffer your bad mood. (Your poor planning or life choices are not my problem—I just may make your bad day worse.)
  • I will not allow you and five of your closest friends to play a drunken game of full contact football in my hallway. (I will use my very best Catholic mom guilt-laden speech to scold and embarrass six grown-ass men.)
  • I will not refund part of your night’s stay after you have spent an hour in your room with your girlfriend.  (I will provide turn down service and leave those little mints on your pillow, so be a prince and pay for and stay the whole night.)
  • I will not let you taste everything on the menu for free until you find something you like. (I will charge you for all that you order, as, “I don’t like that” is not a valid reason to not pay for your meal. If you want a taste of everything, go to an ice cream shop.)
  • I will not allow you or your kids to bang on the fifteen-thousand-dollar baby grand piano in the lobby. (I do not wear noise cancelling earbuds to work. I will tell your untalented oblivious-to-painfully-annoying-sounds ass(es) to stop.)
  • I will not clean up after your furry family member when they shit on my lobby floor. (And don’t try and tell me that he is a service dog. I will gladly provide you with paper towels, cleaning rags, disinfectant spray and a smile.)
  • I will not marginalize my team, myself or my integrity to make you feel better. (I will value them and myself as much as I value your business.)

What crazy customer requests have you received and refused to do? I’d love to read them below or visit me at my facebook page @tammymayhew,author.