Like most of you, I dream big.
I have always wanted to one day be a “known patron” at a local watering hole or old-school restaurant/pharmacy that serves really great ice.
So far, no luck with that. But I did find recognition in a less likely, more healthy way. At the gym!
I had been going to the gym where I work for about a year and people behind the counter suddenly started calling me by my name! I was shocked. It wasn’t behind the greasy restaurant counter like I’d imagined, but I had finally done something enough times that I could be recognized for it.
T’was a happy day indeed!
No lie, one week later they got an automated computer system negating the need for the gym employees to ever look at your gym cards.
Poof! Known patron status up in smoke. I bet they couldn’t tell you my name now if you put a gun to their heads.
The moral of the story kids? Computers kill dreams.
I have always wanted to one day be a “known patron” at a local watering hole or old-school restaurant/pharmacy that serves really great ice.
So far, no luck with that. But I did find recognition in a less likely, more healthy way. At the gym!
I had been going to the gym where I work for about a year and people behind the counter suddenly started calling me by my name! I was shocked. It wasn’t behind the greasy restaurant counter like I’d imagined, but I had finally done something enough times that I could be recognized for it.
T’was a happy day indeed!
No lie, one week later they got an automated computer system negating the need for the gym employees to ever look at your gym cards.
Poof! Known patron status up in smoke. I bet they couldn’t tell you my name now if you put a gun to their heads.
The moral of the story kids? Computers kill dreams.
I can tell you from experience, recognition at the greasy spoon (or in my case, the potato place/heaven on earth) was not all I'd hoped.
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