A Lesson in Class from Hired Help

Written by OHmommy

Monday, 20 October 2008 19:00

To have class means to have the ability to make everyone around you feel comfortable. That is one major component of being classy. No amount of Tiffany's pearls, designer clothes, and careful grooming can cover up pure class.

You either have it or you don't. Or you can learn to have it. Class.

How do you make everyone around you feel comfortable? For starters, you should treat everybody as you would like to be treated. Furthermore, you should think before you speak. Now get a couple glasses of truth serum in me and I am all like, "Your breath stinks." Not very classy.

I spent my entire college career working in a fancy five star French Bistro where two types of people came to wine and dine. Those well bred patrons wearing unassuming clothes with class and those whom draped themselves in pearls and perfume pretending class while belching out orders. Years before even having any children, I decided that I would be the former and so would my legacies.

Classy people make everyone around them feel comfortable. From the retired school bus driver who places the groceries in my minivan each week to the toothless woman that swept up the grounds of our Mexican resort on our vacation and everyone in between receives a warm smile and simple conversation from me. I teach my kids to do the same.

"What's your name?" Jay asked the grocery store clerk.
"Anna."
"Anna. That IS a great name." Jay smiled. "Mama, her name is Anna."
"I like it too. It rhymes with banana." Lola giggled.
"You are both right!" Anna's tired eyes connected with mine and she too smiled.

This weekend I was the hired help. And. People's true spirits really shinned. I was the photographer at a friend's relative's wedding. There were a handful of people, from our community, that were present. Neighbors, friends, acquaintances and PTA mothers enjoying a beautiful fall wedding. In. Our. Community.

One particular guest made me feel like true hired help. No hello. No wave. Not even making eye contact. My feelings were hurt. I waved to them. I stood next to them. My eyes smiled at them. They had dozens of opportunities to just wave like the handful of other classy guests that approached me smiling. This guest was busy smiling and talking away a storm with everyone else. And. I. I just wanted to be acknowledged, as I raced around the ballroom, acknowledged like she did to everyone but me. Being the ONLY person standing up I was definitely noticeable. There was no way anyone could have missed the pretty and sassy brunette in gold ballet flats. Ahem. This is my blog. I felt like hired help.

This just fueled my fire. However, it did help me as a mother to be reminded of my mission. To teach my children and lovingly guide them through life with confident class.

Besides. She must not have been going after the classy look after all. Because her dress and shoes? Not very appropriate for a Sunday luncheon wedding. I'm just saying, while on the topic of lessons in class, the heels were too high and the skirt too short and the perfume a bit too strong outside of a brothel. And that choker pearl necklace? So yesterday. Ahem. Still my blog and feeling much better after venting.

Carry on. You can find me still drowning amongst 18 months of undeveloped photographs.