Attitude is Everything

“Are you a runner? You have great calves!”

I wasn’t a runner, but I did play soccer and the girl who asked was most definitely cute. At that moment when she introduced herself I was sitting on a hill watching a basketball game at a Baptist summer camp in Kentucky and she had just sat down beside me on the hill.

We spoke frequently during the week and became great pals before parting ways, but I’ll always remember the first letter she wrote me after camp. Apparently she had decided during the week together that “attitude is everything” and wanted to thank me. To this day, I have no idea what I said or did to spark the response, but it has alway stuck with me.

In the weeks and years that followed we occasionally exchanged letters and cards. On a few occasions we even got together in person before eventually losing track of one another.

This brief walk down memory lane was sparked a few days ago by a story that I read about the importance of attitude in overcoming anxiety. I think the story is a great reminder that no matter the circumstance, the attitude we bring to the situation makes all the difference in the world.

Begin excerpt

“I once took a trip to Seattle with my daughter when she was three. Our plane had been delayed, we arrived late, so I decided to have dinner in the hotel where we were staying. We were both very hungry and it was of long time before the waiter took our order. He wrote it on his pad and then walked away and basically ignored us. He then asked me if I wanted something to drink and he didn’t bring Brittany any drawing paper or crayons. He just left me there with a hungry, overtired, fidgety child while 5, 10, and then 20 minutes past. No food. I finally had to flag down the waiter and ask him for some juice. By this time, Brittany was restless and had begun running around the restaurant.

I finally got the waiter’s attention once again by waving wildly at him, motioning for him to come over to the table. “What’s going on?” I asked. “We ordered 30 minutes ago and there’s no sign of any food.”

“We’re breaking in a new cook,” he said with a slightly annoyed expression on his face, “so everything’s coming out late. There’s nothing I can do about it.” Fifteen to twenty minutes later, our food arrived, burned and cold. We could hardly eat it. The waiter never stopped by to ask how we were doing and when it came time to give him a tip, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I put myself through college waiting on tables and I learned that good service that tracks good tips. And vice versa. This man had been so negative and uncaring, he had made our evening more unpleasant and difficult than it already was. My last thought as I left the restaurant was, “I’ll never eat here again.”

But I had a meeting in the morning and we overslept. By the time I got myself and Brittany ready, we had no choice. If we wanted breakfast, we had to go to the same restaurant. I braced myself and walked in, prepared for bad experience. As soon as we sat down, the sweetest young lady came over to the table. “Hi, I’m your waitress. What a cute little girl,” she said smiling at Brittany. “Let me go get you some crayons. And would you like some orange juice?” She returned in a couple of minutes with crayons, two glasses of juice, and a smile. After she took our order, she leaned in toward me and said, “Now you be sure and let me know if you need anything at all. We’re breaking in a new chef and he’s a little slow.” She was back at our table several times with more juice, oohing and aahing over Brittany’s crayon drawings.

When the food arrived, the toast was burned, the eggs were rubbery, and the waitress put our plates on the table with an apology. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “This chef is not working out too well. Is there anything I can do?” She made jokes and kept on smiling at us. We didn’t have a very good breakfast but we felt well taken care of, so before we left the table, I left the waitress a big tip.

The waiter who served us dinner probably goes home at night with empty pockets, falls into bed disgusted, and drops off to sleep thinking, “I hate my job. It’s all that chef’s fault. He’s terrible and he’s ruining it for me. I can’t possibly make good money there.” The waitress, on the other hand, most likely gets home at night tired from a long day, and empties her full pockets, and falls and into bed thinking, “What a great job! I made a lot of money today, even with a new chef.” They both worked under the same circumstances, they both put in the same amount of hours. So how could they come away with completely different experiences? The answer is simple. It’s attitude.

You are what you think you are, and it’s all about your attitude.”

Except comes from the book, “From Panic to Power”